Remember the better days when you were eight years old you would get home from school and eat poptarts while watching “Thats So Raven” or “Suite Life Of Zack and Cody”. The only worry in school was if you were going to be picked in a good tederball or dodgeball team with the cool kids. Now its if you are going be able to finish all your homework and study for all the important test coming up. Worrying if you are going to get into a good college.I think eight is the perfect age. I wish I was still eight. Eight was before death or divorce or heartbreak. Eight was just eight. Hot dogs and peanut butter, mosquito bites and splinters, bikes and boogie boards. Tangled hair, sunburned shoulders, Judy Blume, in bed by nine. Ten minute time outs were the worst thing you had ever experienced, now its heartbreak and feeling like a failure.