Only a Kid Would Want to Be an Adult!
I’m not sure at what point it happened, but unbeknownst to me I became an adult. I have to say that I’m not a fan of adulthood and I’m trying to find a way out of it. I now know why my father was always looking at me with disdain. Children are a constant reminder that we are adults. I don’t have any, so it took me much longer to come to that realization.
I guess I came to the conclusion earlier this week when I found myself saying, “When I was a kid…” While looking around at the yard that finally pushed its way through the melting snow, I found myself thinking that I needed one of those things they had in the 1980’s that my parents used to clean up their yard. What were they called? Oh yeah, teenagers! Didn’t those things use to travel around town with shovels in the winter, rakes in the spring and lawn mowers in the summer? I know when I was a kid… Dammit, there I go again! All I need is to get a little more gray hair, a lot more bitter and develop an all too close relationship with flannel and I’ll become my father. I now understand the thought process that went through his head as I wandered around without a care in the world and he tried to figure out at what point he went wrong and became a grownup. I think I even saw a contemplative look in his eyes as he was wondering how he could flee and never be found. Unfortunately, for him, there’s nowhere you can hide in a sky blue 1975 Chevy Impala.
It’s the responsibilities that sneak up on you. At one point, you’re playing Pac Man on your Atari(Yes! 2 Atari references in 2 weeks!) and your only worry is how close you can get to the tv before your mother tells you that you’re going to go blind and the next minute you’re at Walmart buying hand towels and cushion insoles. I remember my mother being a bit more good natured than the average adult. I can only assume that was a defense mechanism she used to keep herself from dropping me off at a farm and hoping I could make it on my own as a free range child. I now realize that I was a constant reminder to my parents that their carefree days were behind them.
At least as a single, childless adult, I have control over my own free time to a point. Those who are married and/or have children consider us singles to be just one step above kids on the responsibility ladder. In actuality, there’s a lot more to do than they might think. I don’t have anyone with whom to split the workload. I don’t live in a magic box where someone has done my laundry, made me dinner, paid my bills or washed the dishes. My parents used their kids the way they were intended to be used. …as indentured servants. As an adult, I at least have the choice of when to do my household chores, but I can’t just do them poorly and hope that’s enough to get me out of doing them again. I’ll admit that being an adult sometimes means making a choice to either do laundry or just buy more clothes. It also means buying insurance, paying bills, going to work and having to shower without a reminder. Not to mention watching your credit score and waistline move in opposite directions.
Why the hell are we in such a hurry to grow up? Maybe it’s the thought of having control over your own life that tricks us into wanting to be an adult when we’re kids. We don’t yet understand that the only good things about being an adult are being legal to drink, staying up late just because you can and actually looking forward to a nap and a spanking every now and then.
About: Ted Snyder
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