You would think that if I was the one to suggest the topic for Talk Thursday (completely out of turn, by the way) that I would have an actual idea which way I was going to go with the topic. Yes?
Well, I didn't. The only thing that I was really clear on was that there was a question mark at the end of the topic.
What was I thinking?
I Am a Grown Up?
When I was a child, I thought being grown up was all about having fun. Now that I am a mom, I hear my daughter saying some of the same things I used to say, usually all in that familiar nerve-grating whine...
"How come you get to stay up later than I do? It's not fair."
"How come you get to go to all the fun places? It's not fair."
"How come you get to get that but I can't get this? It's not fair."
"How come you get the bigger piece of chocolate cake? It's not fair."
And on and on... My reaction to these questions ranges from the infantile, "Yeah, well it's not fair that I have to work so hard to pay for all the shit you want!" to the more sophisticated, "I understand. You are entitled to your feelings," depending on how many times that hour I've heard, "It's not fair!"
"It's not fair," is the anthem of childhood. Or, at least it was during mine and it seems to have passed on through the DNA to my daughter. The chanting raises in tempo, octaves and volume as it is pronounced... It's not fair. It's not fair. Not! fair! I'm telling!
I am an adult now (apparently) and, at times, I wonder when that question mark at the end of the sentence is going to become a little less surprised and a little more certain. There are many times, especially as of late, where I have actually heard my childlike voice whining in my head, "Aw, man! That's not fair! I'm telling!"
But, who do I tell it to? I am a grown up. And, at that, I am a single grown up. There really isn't anyone that I get to tell it to when my daughter eats the last piece of chocolate cake. Or when that "extra" money gets spent before it hits my pocket because I have to replace my windshield.
I guess there are perks to being a grown up. There's the ability to buy what you want, when you want (and pay the consequences for unwise decisions, if that is the case). You get to drive the car (and pay for the gas and the car payment). You get to choose the bigger piece of cake because, for some reason, you deserve it more than the kids do (and have to work five times as hard to get it off your ass when you do). You get to pick the house you live in (and pay the mortgage). You get to pick your own clothes and shoes at the store, no matter how much they cost (and pay those credit card bills). Then, of course, (if I remember correctly) the most important perk for being a grown up (some would say)... sex.
I am a grown up. I am a grown up. I am a grown up?
Hmmmm... apparently so because I have the ass, the car, the shoes and the bills to prove it.
Aw, man. That's not fair. I wanna go back to being a kid.
Oh. But wait. There is always that bigger piece of chocolate cake. Okay. Maybe that's worth growing up for.
4 comments:
Sometimes when I start thinking about something that seems unfair in my adult life, I remember back to being sixteen and unhappy with my life. It all seems so much better.
And btw I liked this topic.
Thanks, C! I am glad you liked the topic. (even though it wasn't my turn!!!) LOL :)
It is amazing how our perspective on "fair" and "unfair" change as we age.
I like this topic but I'm avoiding it like the plague. Hmmm what could THAT mean? You have a gift, Ang.
;) Tomorrow, promise.
Hey, darling! Perhaps it means you haven't grown up or are refusing to! LOL! Ye-eah... I didn't realize how difficult it was going to be until I actually stared at a blank screen for quite some time before anything came to me.
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