“Now shut up before I slap you silly!”
That’s the line — the one that yanked my attention away from the laundry I was pretending to fold and straight toward the TV. My five‑year‑old was watching a movie. A Disney movie. A classic. One I watched dozens of times as a kid without a single adult raising an eyebrow or offering a “maybe this is a little dark” disclaimer.
So, I sat down next to him. And within minutes, I watched a cartoon “child” get locked in a birdcage and threatened by an adult who looked like she’d been sketched during a fever dream. (And no, it wasn’t Hansel and Gretel — that’s Grimm, not Disney.)
As the movie went on, my adult brain started doing what adult brains do: overanalyzing. Maybe I was reading too much into it. Maybe the symbolism wasn’t symbolism at all. Maybe a film from the 1940s just feels more sinister when you’re watching it in 2011 with a mortgage and a caffeine dependency.
Maybe.
But then came Pleasure Island — a place where boys could gamble, smoke, get drunk, destroy property, and face zero consequences… unless you count turning into a literal jackass and being sold into manual labor as a consequence.
And that’s when it hit me: This movie wasn’t meant for five‑year‑olds. It was meant for teenagers. Maybe even 20‑year‑olds. The ones who think they’re invincible. The ones who think bad choices magically skip them. The ones who believe they have unlimited time to get their lives together. In other words, it was meant for the version of me I wish I could go back and talk to.
Because here’s the truth buried under all the donkey metaphors:
- If you waste your time, your potential, your opportunities… you will pay for it later.
- A foolish kid can grow into a wise adult.
- But a foolish adult? They usually stay foolish.
- And ignoring the obvious red flags in your life doesn’t make them disappear — it just makes the consequences louder.
And so, if I could tell my 20‑year‑old self anything, it would be this:
Don’t wait until life turns you into a metaphorical jackass to realize you’re on the wrong path.
Pay attention now. Make better choices now. Ask better questions now. And for the love of all things holy, stop assuming you’re the exception to every rule. Kids need guidance. Twenty‑year‑olds need honesty. And adults — well, some of them need Pinocchio more than they realize.
After rewatching this beautifully restored version of Collodi’s story, I’m convinced: Pinocchio shouldn’t be shown to five‑year‑olds. It should be required viewing in every high school career‑planning class. Maybe then we’d have fewer jackasses roaming free.
At least, that’s my take. What would you tell your 20‑year‑old self?
Today’s post inspired by the WordPress daily prompt: What is something you wish you could tell your 20-year-old self? Note, this is an update to a post from 15 years ago when my 20-year-old was a 5-year-old : ) Cover image created with Google AI.
DISCLAIMER: These are my personal experiences and opinions. Nothing here is medical, nutritional, or therapeutic advice. Also, I’m a writer and an editor. And I try my best to make sure every post is articulate and free from errors. However, being that I edit my own work—and it’s next to impossible to properly edit your own work—I admit, occasionally there may be an error or two I miss. But doing so doesn’t make me an idiot so don’t be mean. Just smile, pat yourself on the back for finding an error and be glad you’re not the only one who makes mistakes sometimes … xoxox
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