Remember when we were kids and all you ever wanted was to be treated like a grown up? Grown-ups got to all the fun stuff; drive, go to bed when they wanted to, wear makeup, talk on the phone all night, eat cookies before dinner, date who they wanted, watch rated R movies, and they only talked to their parents when they wanted to. Adults could also curse anytime they wanted to.
The most insulting part was grownups, like my parents, didn’t even appreciate the fact that they had these freedoms. Instead they would show off their power and spout off things like,
“Go to bed!”
“You are too young to wear makeup”
“Sex kills! Seriously, it does! Ask your father!” My dad agreed, but he wouldn’t even say the word. It wasn’t until later that I realized being one of six children my parents obviously had nine lives.
“You want to go to the movies with a boy? Sure, but first let me inject myself with the plague.”
“When you have a car of your own, you can pick the music.”
“Stop putting makeup on your little brother.” That’s the price he paid for my parents not having cable.
“You do get paid to work in the family business. You get a roof over your head, food, and we paid for your braces. If anything, you should be paying us.”
“We are having a family night tonight. That means only those with your last name can stop by, sleep over, or eat at this house.” Family night meant we watched Gunsmoke reruns and had to go to bed by 8pm. My parents loved family night!
And my personal favorite,
“This hurts us worse than it hurts you.” A few years after my first child was born my mom fessed up. “It didn’t really hurt us at all. In fact, sometimes it felt wonderful to teach you little twits a lesson.”
At the time, it seemed so unfair to have to wait 18 years to be considered a grown up. More than two decades after becoming an adult I can proudly say, being a grownup isn’t exactly what I thought it would be. There are even days when it sucks!
Sure I go to bed when I want. I can stay up ALL.NIGHT.LONG. Although it’s usually because of a fussy baby, pending deadline or marathon house cleaning before out of town relatives arrive the next day.
Thank God I can wear as much makeup as I want to now. I use it to cover the dark circles, freckles (i.e. age spots) and sun damage.
I can eat whatever I want, whenever I want…until my fat pants get snug.
As an adult, I also get to pay a mortgage, taxes, and pay for braces, insurance, and batting/guitar/drum/shooting lessons for our children.
So whenever I hear my kids complain about how rough they have it, I just remind them that it won’t be too many years before they will have their own car, mortgage and fat pants. For now, they are stuck with me and their dad for family night. Mom was right, this feels awesome!
Comments? You can email Becky at becky@wilsonlivingmagazine.com
