Will someone please tell me where my innocence has gone? The other day I walked past an enormous pile of leaves stacked about five feet tall, and what was the first thought that popped into my head?

All the germs and bacteria that dusted each and every yellow leaf. Not the fun of jumping into the pile or the excitement of getting all dirty and messy, no sir. I thought about the germs and my potential to become sick.

Seriously? I’m thinking about GERMS? What the hell happened to me!?

Years and years ago, that same pile of leaves would have been intact for a whole five seconds before six-year-old me would have launched into its natural goodness. Time would stop each time we met, my eyes scanning her leafy curves and yellowish-brown hues, and our bodies would become one in a magical moment of childhood indulgence and adolescent fantasy.

Now look at me. I hardly make it past Mrs. Leaf Pile before my mind thinks of bacterial infections and I’m turned on by thoughts of Purell.

I don’t know if this is me becoming an adult or simply an insane germophobe, but I don’t like it one bit. Two weeks ago I wrote about how my Halloween innocence has been ravished. Now it’s occurring to me that I’ve lost more than just my ability to be scared: I’ve lost my ability to be irresponsibly carefree.

In my childhood, the only important election was a heads-down hands-up vote for a class president whose constituents picked their noses and ate crayons.

In my childhood, passing out on the floor with a spilled drink beside you was an endearing sign of missed naptime.

In my childhood, cooties were just as bad as gonorrhea, playground shoving amounted to international terrorism and the only economic crisis was not having enough change to buy a big cookie during recess.

Where a glass of milk and a PB&J once stood proud, a Caesar salad and an Evian now stand in their places. And it sucks.

You might think by now that I’m just a guy stuck in his nostalgia, as this is the second time I’ve written about my childhood and how much I miss it. I list my favorite things from the past, my dissatisfaction with the present and my childishly optimistic ideas for the future. But there’s more to me than just that.

I’m not saying I should revert to a state of childhood bliss, nor do I wish to shut myself off from the world’s troubles and ignore society’s concerns. I simply think I owe it to myself to jump in that damn pile of leaves next time. Maybe then everything else will seem a little less important and the idea of Purell all over my body won’t be nearly as much of a turn on.

(On an unrelated note: The election is in exactly one week. Vote!)

Medill sophomore Marc Snetiker can be reached at [email protected].