It can be so disheartening to realise you've grown too old for things you'd become accustomed to. Going down the slide at the park is now a logistical problem, shopping at Toys R Us no longer feasible and gliding down streets in a pair of Heely's grabs all the wrong kinds of attention. But now I have come to realise I have outgrown something else: a tradition families celebrate each year with a selection of chocolate goods, bunny-themed teddies and an early morning egg hunt. This year, I have concluded that Easter has become a fond memory of childhood and I can't help but feel a little sour at the realisation. I guess it really hit home when my own Mum told me I was 'too old for an Easter egg this year'. I sulked as any other 5 year old would and spat my dummy out of the pram, metaphorically of course. Is it too old to emigrate to Neverland at 22?
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