(Image is AI generated using Prompt Hunt)
Being a 5-year-old kid, sure was a fun time to be. I was free-- to roam inside our house, of course! I was never an outdoor child. My choice.
And since I wasn't really fond of going out, I surrounded myself with books and board games. Well, it was Mama who bought those for me, so I wouldn't get bored in our house when my siblings were out playing.
As a child, I was always curious. And my curiosity had sometimes brought me physical pain in an "I learned my lesson" way. For me, it was both funny and stupid.
There was a time that I was left alone in our house. Mama left for the market while Papa had to work. I couldn't remember where my siblings were then. But if my memory served me right, they were left in the neighbor's house because they wanted to play with the other kids.
So, I was watching cartoons when my left itched. A sly smile escaped my lips when I thought of a bright idea-- because why not?.
I got up and searched for a specific plastic bottle that contained the solution to my itching eye. At that moment, my brain was constantly playing the TV advertisement I had seen about Greencross Alcohol which could kill 99.9% of germs. And guess what happened next when I had my hand on the bottle?
Yup! I excitedly removed the bottle cap and poured some of its content into my itchy eye, and whoa la! It made me cry and was temporarily blinded, for I didn't know how long. At first, I felt the cooling effect the alcohol had, but seconds later, it was burning! Fortunately, I only put an inconsiderable amount of that liquid into my eye. Wanna know why I did that?
I was curious if it could really eradicate germs on a certain surface. Because I had learned that germs cause itchiness.
That was just the beginning of my foolish curiosity.
Another school year was about to start again, so Mama bought me some extra school supplies: paper, a notebook, pencils, and a sharpener.
I went out to buy something from a store. When I was returning home, my godsister blocked my path and bragged to me about her unsharpened pencils, teasing me. "I have new pencils. You don't."
I was pissed off. I gave her a side glance and rushed to our house, grabbing my sharpener.
"I have a sharpener," I said, waving the red square thing to her face.
"I don't care," she said. "You don't have a pencil to sharpen."
I was about to throw a fit when I thought of something.
Since I didn't bring a pencil to sharpen, why not-- I looked at my right hand, and... tears came rushing down my cheeks. My nails flaked off when I tried to sharpen my index finger just to shut off my annoying godsister. I was also curious how it felt to be a pencil being sharpened.
If you think that was the last of my stupid curiosity, then you were wrong.
A few days later, I went to our neighbor's house and saw Christine, the older sister of my classmate, working on her project. She was a high school student then. And as a curious child, I intently watched as she stapled some pieces of paper together. I was fascinated by how the stapler did its work. So, when she put the thing down, I grabbed the stapler without having a second thought and tried it on my left index finger because I couldn't find paper to staple. I was curious how it felt to be a piece of paper being stapled.
Guess what?
I didn't cry. I couldn't cry, though I was panicking about how to remove the buried staple wire on my finger. I went pale and cold at the sight of the finger that went whitish and numb. I couldn't remember how they removed the wire.
See? At five, I'd already known the meaning of "No pain, no gain."
I proved that pain could really teach us some life lessons. Those minor pains I felt, because of being curious, helped me gain experience. They taught me the value of taking care of myself and not getting hurt by doing stupid things.
