I've felt like a grownup* on and off for, oh, the last twenty years or so. But it's always been in a kind of ironic, out-of-body-experience sort of way. Like: hey, look at me, I'm wearing a suit and high heels and chatting with strangers at a meeting, how very grownup of me!
But in the last month or so, there's been a distinct shift in my experience of grownup. I am now fully inhabiting my own grownupitude in a way I think I never have before. This is partly a result of M turning 12 and deciding that I am, in large part, useless (I know you still love me sweetie, and I'm so glad you wanted me to go on the field trip, but you've got to admit it, you think I'm pretty lame a lot of the time). It also has to do with the presence of a bonafide teenager in the house.
So despite my affinity for fictional teenagers, I find myself uttering, with absolutely no irony, lines like the following:
"You're right, I don't get it, and I don't care."
"Don't even think you're going to leave the house in that shirt."
"We can continue this conversation if you want, but I'm not going to change my mind."
And the twinned grownup responses par excellence: "Because I said so." and "Because I'm the grownup."
And, you know, I am.
*Grownup? Grown up? Grown-up? I really should know this!
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When stretch pants were hip when I was a teenager my mom would flip out if my shirt didn't cover my butt. As a result, I've had a complex about my butt and tight pants ever since. Don't do that to M. :)
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