Oh, to be 6 years old again. When I was six the first time, back in 1988, Reagan was President, Debbie Gibson was a big hit, and Woodstock wasn’t even 20 years old yet. If I had the chance to revert back to that age, except in 2015, I think the first thing I’d do is marvel at how simple and uncluttered my life is. No bills, no adult responsibilities. I’d watch cartoons in front of the TV whilst eating sugary cereals like Corn Pops or Frosted Flakes. I’d play with my Barbies and stuffed animals. I’d play Hide-and-Seek with my parents. I’d make macaroni art to stick on the fridge, and then I’d paint on the walls. I’d throw toys at my sister, who would stay her current age of 27, content with the knowledge she couldn’t throw them back; after all, I’m only six years old! I’ve always wanted to nail her a couple of times for moments she threw toys at me when she was little, so somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I’d recognize it as revenge. I think overall I’d enjoy how carefree my 24 hours would be. There are a lot of advantages to being an adult, like eating ice cream for breakfast because you’re an adult, and adults can eat ice cream whenever they damn well want, but there are also a lot of disadvantages, and an opportunity to escape them, for even a day, would be well worth the effort.