I use the term adult lightly. I think by claiming to be one, you’re immediately held to this expectation of maturity. At 28, there are still days where I have room to work on that. I mean I still do things like this:
So, I’m not necessarily an adult, but growing up, and getting to the age that…
*Curtains and Mixers are exciting! For Christmas this year I got a new mixer to decorate my countertop and inspire me to learn to bake, and curtains for my windows, and I was more excited about those two things than, say, a LeapFrog learning center, a Pillow Pet, or the latest Spice Girls album. It was actually the day I asked for a vacuum for Christmas a few years ago that gave me the “OMG WHO AM I” moment.
I get to choose when I get up to pee. Kid you not, I will lay in bed and try to decide how bad I need to go, or if it can wait until morning. I no longer have a rule that I have to go brush my teeth, hair, and use the bathroom before clammering into my warm bed and refuse to move. And I can stay up as late as I want.
I’m tired. All the time, at THE most embarrassing times of the night. Like, 8:30 for example. *shutters*
If I don’t want to eat my vegetables, I don’t hafta. I can actually pick through my plate and leave them tidely off to one side, without a single “only three more bites and we’ll have a deal.” deal.
I can throw tantrums. Granted, it looks even more ridiculous than when my six year old does it, but still.
I like coffee. And whiskey. And candy. Sometimes all at the same time. AND I get to choose my limit.
I can sleep in! Well, actually I can’t. Which is an even greater point. My time clock literally JUST starting occurring and thinking it can have a routine all it’s own; ironic, now that I don’t HAVE to get up on Saturdays.
I can watch Zombieland and eat chili and hot dogs and tatertots at 9pm. Granted, the suffering induced (See: Bad dreams, indigestion, stomach pains from LOLing too late at night…) brought back a really cute “I tollllllllllllld you so” mom voice in my head.
I have THE best arguments ever against my toddlers. “Because I’m an adult that’s why. When you’re my age, you can too.”
I can cuss! Point & case.
And while these are all really, really great things…I sure do miss the days that I didn’t have to work. That I could blame my mother for everything. The days when my breakfasts were made before my feet hit the floor, my bills were paid for me, and I didn’t know what anguish, brokenhearted and betrayal felt like.
I sure do love feeling life though, don’t you?