Grown Up

Every once in a while, usually while doing something very mundane, I get a tiny glimpse of the reality that I am, in fact, a grown-up.

It's terrible.

Yet, I'd be offended if someone thought I was a kid.

When I mention this to Troubletron, he shakes his head and says he can't remember NOT being a grown-up. I guess when you have a baby as a teenager, you sort of always HAVE been a grown-up. But, that didn't happen to me. So, my transition has been more subtle, I suppose.

It's not that I'm irresponsible or immature. I pay my bills on time, protect my credit, understand the realities of the working world, know the value of education, stay knowledgeable about politics, pontificate about religion, and have an intimate understanding of my Dyson. I clean, cook, work, stress, organize, and love.

Yet, my living room is full of comic books, video games, and an R2d2 aquarium. My husband and I went to Build-a-bear (without the children) and came home with a pink, winged unicorn with stars and sparkles. My bed linens are polka dotted. I'm currently wearing a T-shirt that says "More Trees Please."

I guess that's why I forget. I live a life of duality. I live in some strange realm where 401Ks and PS3s take up equal brainpower.

This generation is weird, and seemingly unlike any generation before. But, does every generation think that about themselves? Were my parents just as kid-like as I am at 30? I can't wrap my brain around it.