The text below wasn’t written by me; I found it somewhere on this wonderful internet. But I believe each of us could have a similar resignation letter written… and if we don’t have the courage to place it on the desk, at least let’s read it from time to time!

I, the undersigned, hereby irrevocably announce my official resignation from the role of adult, which I currently hold abusively.

After carefully analyzing the situation, I’ve decided to step back and take on the duties of a six-year-old child, with all the rights and responsibilities I once had, but abandoned far too easily.

I want to draw with colored chalk on my street when serious, important adults pass by on their way to work, without caring about their stress in the battle with the minutes and traffic waiting for them.

I want to be proud of my red scooter, without caring how much next year’s insurance costs.

I want to believe that Tic-tac candies are better than money because you can eat them.

I want to lie under a tree with a glass of lemonade in my hand, looking at the fluffy clouds racing across the sky, wondering why adults don’t do the same.

I want to go back to a time when life was simple. When all I knew were seven colors, five poems, ten numbers, and my mother’s voice calling me to eat when I wasn’t even hungry.

I want to return to when I didn’t care how little I knew because I didn’t know how little I knew.

I want to believe, as I did back then, that everything in this world is either free or can be bought with the price of a cup of ice cream.

I’ve grown up too much, and I don’t even know when I woke up as an adult. It was surely an abuse, and I apologize.

I’ve come to know what I shouldn’t have: wars and ethnic cleansing, abused children and starving children, divorces, drugs in high schools, prostitution, corrupt justice, low-life politicians, churches for homosexuals, brothers divided over money, hatred, gossip.

I’ve learned about dialectical materialism and unfit mothers who sell their 12-year-old daughters to animals with the faces of men for a secondhand TV.

What happened to the time when I thought death was a fairytale concept, that only old emperors died to make way for young princes married to princesses won after defeating a dragon?

Where are the years when the worst thing that could happen was not being picked for Menica the repeater’s team when we played soccer behind the school?

I want to go back to a time when all children read useful books, music was untainted, and television was for news and family shows, without explicit sex and implicit violence every ten seconds.

I want cartoons with Donald Duck, the adventures of the “Speranta” crew sailing with “All Sails Up,” and my mother reading to me about Joseph and his brothers.

How wonderful it was to believe in my innocence that everyone around me was happy because I was happy!

I solemnly promise that as soon as I resume the role of a child, I will spend my afternoons climbing trees, riding cousin Cristi’s bike, and reading *Robinson Crusoe* hidden in the makeshift hut of branches and beech leaves at the back of the garden.

I commit not to care about mortgage payments, phone bills, electricity, gas, water, garbage, cable TV and Internet bills, car insurance, health insurance, annual property taxes, credit cards, uncut grass, computer viruses, or the fact that the car wants a trip to the mechanic.

I assure you that I won’t be flustered when asked, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” because now I know: I want to be a CHILD.

No more going to work when I should be sleeping and dreaming of Florin Piersic as White Moor, no more news about terrorists, bombs, and plane crashes.

No more gossip from friends that doesn’t even leave me alone in church, no more herniated discs, gray hair, lost glasses, expensive medicine, and porcelain teeth.

Enough, stop, I give up! I resign from the role of ADULT. I want to believe in the sincerity of smiles, the nobility of words, a world where promises are kept, justice prevails, peace exists, dreams come true, imagination is ennobled, good angels exist, and humanity reflects the image of God.

I want to be six and a half again. You can be big, important, busy, and worried. I want to grow SMALL!