Gone are the Days.

Gone are the days where us one-year-olds took our very first (albeit a little wobbly), small step, and where our over-excited parents grabbed their camcorders, much to our fright, and the video, which has been shown on your birthday every single year, ends with a close-up of your little face, crimson with all the effort you put into bawling your lungs out.
(Thank God.)


Gone are the days where us three-year-olds (having mastered the art of what they call 'walking') toddled into our respective kindergartens and, with much gusto and enthusiasm, sang silly little songs about chickens and ducks and geese in Chinese and English. And who can forget the very memorable Graduation Day, where it was time for us to toss our little caps into the air and we ended up accidentally-on-purpose poking the eye of the class bossy-boots, much to the anger of her parents, and for the rest of the afternoon, you were forced to sit in a little corner while the rest of the ceremony continued, much to the embarrasment of your parents.
(And till this day, you are still taking out your personal copy of your kindergarten's class photograph and vandalising Miss Bossy-Boots's face by drawing red devil horns on her with your Magic Markers.)


Gone are the days where us seven-year-olds first stepped into Primary school ("Wah, so BIG!") and had to constantly ask Mrs Tan's help for
a) going to the nearby Level One toilet ("I cannot go myself!")
b) solving the 'tough' Mathematics problems you weren't used to doing ("What is this number, ah?")
c) solving petty squabbles between you and your friends. ("I don't friend you anymore!")


Gone are the days when us twelve-year-olds finally realised how important the PSLE was, and for the few weeks before this very important exam, we were seen in the Library bending our heads over thick textbooks and scribbling down the formula to find the area of a circle upon our pretty spiral bound notebooks.
(Actually, we were secretly bashing up criminals on our PSPs under the table, when the librarian wasn't looking.)


Gone are the days where we finally entered Secondary school, said goodbye to many bosom friends ("RGS?! Why not MGS?! Oh, how could you, Marissa?") and struggled with our seven ("WHAT?!") subjects and fifty-minute periods. We formed many groups ("Cliques." "Naw, we're a HAPPY FAMILY!") and made new friends while catching up with the old. We found teachers we liked (maybe even crushed on. Remember "baka!", Joy?) and teachers we detested ("So-and-so is so !@#$%^&*.")
(Oh, how saddening it is to see one of my besties go to the best class next year, leaving the rest of us PSSs.)


This is just a taste of life.
Bring out the whole dish, Mr. Chef, and let me dig in.