Forgotten Youth
There is a strange and arguably terrible disease which strikes people between the ages of eighteen and twenty-two. It's nothing to worry about really, as there is only one symptom: complete, permanent memory loss of what it was like to be a kid. This does not seem to bother most people very much. In fact, few ever even notice.
Some folks experience additional memory loss which must be more noticeable, because they are often remarking, "I can't remember anything I learned in high school." In some cases this is less a symptom of the disease than a sad commentary on the school system. The person may not have learned anything in high school in the first place, due to the fact that nothing was being taught.
Whatever the case, there is little negative impact on their lives. This discovery has led to the explosion in college enrollments, as people figure that must be where all the useful stuff is taught. Well, there's always grad school.
Unfortunately, the consequences of this memory loss fall upon the current crop of youth. Yes, the very same children who grew up hating it when adults addressed them in the tone of voice usually reserved for lap dogs or other inanimate objects, turn around and do the same thing when they become adults. They just don't remember. Hence children everywhere continue to cringe as people pat them on the head and say, "Weeelllll, aren't you a big widdle guy! Yes, you are! What are we doing today, hmm?" We are plotting how to rip out your voicebox with a garden weasel as soon as we are old enough to handle sharp objects. Too bad we will never remember to do so.
Another favorite tactic is talking about a child right in front of him as though he isn't there or is too dumb to understand. "He's quite the little terror, always getting into everything," declares the proud parent. "Oh, I know. Doesn't it just drive you crazy when they're at that age?" replies the family friend. No one remembers being the kid and thinking, "At least I have better manners than you. And if you think I've been difficult before, just watch me now."
But the disease of adulthood will remove these painful memories. The adult is only aware that this sort of condescension bothers them now, and decides it must be a new thing. Kids, on the other hand, they conclude, just love it.
And then there is the worst side effect of the disease. Since the developmental years are forgotten, affected adults can only believe that their attitudes were formed spontaneously at the instant of adulthood. It's sort of the Big Bang Theory of maturity. There was nothing, then suddenly for no reason and with no outside influences there was a fully formed character. Cool!
Thus children are deemed to have no judgment of their own, no common sense, and little or no intelligence. They have to be given dull scissors that cut nothing to prevent them from constantly stabbing themselves in the eye (no one cares that dull scissors will not make this habit any safer.)
They can only be allowed to play sports in an adult-organized and supervised league, as they are clearly too dumb to be able to get together and play properly on their own. They cannot be trusted to place sufficient weight on winning so that they will not only have absolutely no fun at all, but will risk suffering permanent injury just to experience the thrill of victory. Only adult supervision can insure the properly maniacal level of determination. Fortunately, none of the scarred youth will remember how much they hated being forced to play Little League and how they felt compelled to lie to their parents about how much they enjoyed it. Otherwise it might be hard to find coaches for the next generation. (Luckily for the �counseling� industry the memory apparently can be restored through numerous weepy sessions, yet this still doesn�t get Junior out of having to go through it for himself.)
Kids can't be included in an adult conversation either, since they couldn't possibly have anything to contribute. How could they even know what's going on without the instantaneous knowledge and understanding that comes with adulthood?
Happily, once a kid turns eighteen the government recognizes him as an adult and bestows upon him all the privileges pertaining thereto, except the right to drink alcohol. He can vote now, and with his brand-new discernment abilities, he should have no trouble selecting the best person to elect. Sadly, experience clearly shows that while memory erasure is practically guaranteed, not everyone gets the rest of the adulthood package. Right, Mrs. Clinton?
Once a youngster turns twenty-one, he instantaneously becomes responsible enough to drink alcohol. He has been voting for three years, and may even have served in the military in a war by then, but the self control required around legal alcohol consumption does not emerge until this magical birthday. He does not remember how easy it has been for him to obtain booze since junior high, and likely will be a strong voting supporter of maintaining the legal age status quo. Have you ever met anyone who said, �I really wanted to drink in high school, but it wasn�t legal so I never had the opportunity?� I can�t remember.
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