Monday, February 07, 2011

6 reasons why I'm a real adult now

in no particular order, other than the order that they squeaked out of my brain

1. I take my car in to the dealer for scheduled maintenance.
I don't push my car to the nearest gas station and make hand motions charades-style to the "mechanic" and then pray that my credit card has enough space to handle another fix. Nor do I duct tape the repair problems on my own.
Just driving my car (that was built this century) onto a white tile surface feels grown-up and privileged-- even though I have to bum rides like a teenager while it's getting its check-up...I guess getting a rental car for the day would be super-grown-up.

2. I get calls from the school principal's office.
Not for Kid C mind you, and she actually has a real principal, but she's an angel and never gets in trouble.
For Kid R however, I get calls more often than I'd like. Until last week, they were all due to him being sick in someway or another, but now I get behavior calls.
Joy. Parental joy.
I feel like an [unwilling] adult when I take walk-of-shame to pick him up from the school office because of his crunky spaz psycho behavior. I don't think adults are supposed to use those adjectives about children, but I do.

3. I meet with architects.
Yes, really. I'm a co-homeowner (which also gives me loads of real adult points, like beating a "boss" on a Mario level. And that nintendo reference also shows how old I am). I get to make deciscions like "yes, make the fireplace look like this" and use words like "wainscoting" "soffit" and "composite decking." Mind you, I attend these meetings barefoot at my dining table with craft-glitter encrusted on it, but I'm still in the game.

4. I spend more than 50.00 at a time at the grocery store.
If I saw an item, say the sewing machine that I really really want but can't justify buying, that costs 280.00 (although in fairness the Brother costs closer to 400), I wouldn't buy it. I would walk away. But I go to Safeway, buy random stuff to feed, wipe, and clean the anklebiters and I hand over a load of moola. Most of the time I don't even pay attention to the total. Because that's how adult I am. Although the mature thing would be to pay attention to the total and track it, try to reduce it etc. I didn't say I was mature, I said I was adult. Like the kind of adults on Judge Judy, not on CSPAN.

5. Teenagers and college students think I'm ancient.
Tattoos, piercing, blue hair, I've got it all. What I don't have is a birthday in the 1990's. I have old-face and two kids. Ain't no way they're gonna follow me on Twitter (they're too cool for Twitter anyhow) and they're going to accept my friend request on Facebook out of politeness and then probably "hide" my news feed because they don't care how funny my kids are.
I can tell they can't tell the difference between my age and their parents age.

6. I can buy bunnies and motorcycles, but I prudently choose not to.
I never had a window of time in which I was independent enough and not-broke enough to buy a bunny and a motorcycle and enjoy them.
I never had a time in which I had both the cash to buy a motorcycle and have no one care about me enough to tell me not to ride one because I would surely die. (which I agree would happen...because I'm an adult)
And I never had a time in which I could pour all my heart's affection and spare time into a furry adorable rodent. Humans, large and now large-and-small, receive 95% of my love/time, which leaves 4% for Mojito and 1% for anything else living in this house.
Bunnies and motorcycles just don't fit into a real adult lifestyle. I still think they are both fantastic and I'll have to settle for screensaver slideshows or something safe and nerdly to satisfy my respective appetites.

1 comment:

sarah said...

you are the funniest chick I know. And yes, i'm a real adult now too. minus the homeownership bit. It's nice to know when my kid whizzes on the carpet we can say, "its ok, its a rental!" still.