If you could be any age again for a week, which would you choose?

When Hugo looks at me, he sees this girl, this young girl. She’s still inside of me somewhere, but she’s just a part of me now. When you look at me, you see me.” ~ Warehouse 13

It’s interesting answering this question now, seeing as I only have twenty years to choose from. It’s is more difficult to answer than you would think, if you stop and remember the good times you’ve had all the years of your life.

The first age I would consider is approximately age seven. I was never held back in school, so that would put me in the second grade. Now, second grade wasn’t overly memorable for me; I didn’t have any really good friends and the few “friends” I had pressured me into spending my recesses on games that I wasn’t really thrilled with…

Why exactly did I want to be seven again?

Let’s move up an age. Eight, third grade, was definitely better than seven. New town, new school, new house, and one of my favorite teachers I’ve ever had. Plus, I can remember a fair amount of personality growth happening that year as well; in fact, both of my years spent at Faith Christian School were good ones. I might be happy to go back there.

The next age I would consider is probably thirteen, when I was in eighth grade, when my best friend and I were finally back in the same grade. We had plenty of good times from sixth through eighth grade, but she had been held back in kindergarten, so our years were slightly skewed. But that was definitely one of my favorite grades, even though it was the last I spent in an actual school before I was homeschooled.

You would think that I would nominate another of my teenage years for consideration, but everything kind of went downhill from there, and I have no real desire to revisit any age since then. But now I’m all nostalgic and I can’t decide if I’d rather be eight or thirteen. Can I just cheat and choose both?

Stop crying. You’ve got a lot to look forward to, you know. A normal human life on Earth. Mortgage repayments. The nine-to-five. A persistent, nagging sense of spiritual emptiness. Save the tears for later, boy-o. Oh, that was crabby. No, that was old. But I am old, Stormy. I am so old. So near the end. You are so young, aren’t you? And you know, right now everything’s ahead of you. You could be anything. Yes, I know. You could walk among the stars. They don’t actually look like that, you know. They are rather more impressive. You know when I was little like you I dreamt of the stars. I think it’s fair to say, in the language of your age, that I lived my dream. I owned the stage. Gave it a hundred and ten percent. I hope you have as much fun as I did.” ~ the Eleventh Doctor, Doctor Who