Twilight of the Childhood

When I was a child, I spake as a child. But now I am 9, I am on the cusp of The Change, when I shall be sullen, argumentative and refuse to come out of my room for hours. (What am I saying ...)
 Already if I get a couple of hours free, I choose to re-watch Commando or The Running Man etc; long gone are the Dumbos and Mowglis of this world, only carnal delights remain obscure to me, and they won't be for long. I'd better enjoy the simple irresponsible life of a child while I still can. Grandad says I've got 3 years left before the dreaded hormonal surge transforms me into the acned proto-adult of my future.
So the only thing for it was to go and play multi-player Minecraft with Ben on his X-box for 6 hours straight while Jof slaved over a hot stove for hours preparing the new years' eve foodstuffs.
 He is considerably younger than me (1 year or 2 weeks, depending on how you look at it) and we played immersed in the same game on different screens so we could go round killing zombies together, which is all any real boy wants to do. We kept getting lost and had to send up fireworks to relocate each other; when we're teenagers we want to play multi-player from our separate houses, but Jof wants us to steer clear of mad orientals.
Eventually I had to be repatriated but we did get half an hour to investigate Box #9, which we did very loudly. Of course, us whirling dervishes never keep still, so the only decent picture where we're not a pair of barking blurs is the really boring one.