You tell your mom all the time how much you want to be a grown up, and I am going to tell you now: STOP SAYING THAT, OR I WILL PUNCH YOU IN THE HEAD. YOU DON'T MEAN IT. Being a grown up sucks. As the adult version of you, I want to offer you words of advice as to how good it is to be six years old, and how being a grown-up is bad.
First and foremost: glue eating. I'd tell you to stop that, but you're going to put way worse things in your body by the time you're 21, so really, glue is the least of your worries. Enjoy the Elmer's and enjoy it with gusto. Anyone who looks at you weird, well, they're just jealous.
Recess is a gift from God. Being cooped up in an office watching children run and play is directly correlated with Satan. Actually, you will be employed by Satan. Run around. Run a lot. Don't go on the teeter-totter in a skirt. Don't try to ride the tire swing with no hands. But other than that, have at it. Recess is a rare commodity, and by the time you're my age, "recess" will consist of naptime.
That reminds me. Naptime. You hate it now. You fidget on the cot, talk to the kids lying next to you, and sit in anxious anticipation until naptime is over. But naptime — again. From God. (And by the way, this is the only time in your life you will be able to lay down less than a foot from a boy and not have him try to get in your pants. Enjoy it while it lasts.) Sleep, little one, because at 21, sleep is a rare commodity. Four hours is not a long time, though it seems like it now. But get excited: that's all the sleep you're going to get as an adult.