Being an adult pretty much sucks. While I suppose that’s probably not exactly an Earth-shattering pronouncement, the point was driven home to me again this week. Few things will make you realize that you’re Officially The Grown Up like going on a vacation and coming home. Somebody has pack everything you need to survive in the wilds for a few days. Somebody has to worry about the cost of a kid’s meal at the local tourist trap restaurant. Somebody has to make sure all your offspring stay together and don’t wander off to make friends with Randall the custodian, who used to work the dart throw booth until they found him huffing the helium.
And then, when you get home, somebody has to unpack all the stuff you took plus all the new stuff that was just acquired. Somebody has to do the damned laundry, which isn’t magically going to sort itself and climb into the washing machine like a modern day Sorcerer’s Apprentice. And God forbid, eating meals everyday at home requires forethought, groceries, and the effort to cook. Oh, and those groceries cost money and don’t just appear out of no where like a carriage for the Prince’s Looking For a Wife Ball. Apparently you have to pick them up.
And even when you have groceries, somebody has to make sure they get used before they turn south. Because if you, the adult, don’t use those blueberries before they go bad, they’ll grow hair like a member of ZZ Top and start threatening the other innocent foods in your refrigerator with stinky blue berry juice.
Yeah, adulthood sucks. Responsibility ruins everything.
Sometimes, being an adult does have it’s perks. Say, even when you know you need to write a Friday morning post for your blog, no one’s going to tell you not to make blueberry muffins at 10 o’clock at night. It’s your life. If you want to make late-night muffins using a coffee cake recipe before writing that post, go for it. And maybe you probably shouldn’t start watching “Scott Pilgrim vs. The World” after that, insuring there’s no way you’ll get to bed at a decent hour. But who’s going to suffer if you do it? You’re a grown up, right? If you want to stay up until 2 AM and drag an undoubtedly sorry excuse for yourself out of bed in the morning for work, so what?
Smart? No. But it’s your call. Maybe, have a little fun sometimes.
Okay, yes, maturity can undoubtedly be a chore. You’ve got bills to pay, work to do, and bosses to suffer, etc, etc. But responsibility becomes a burden only when you forget that sometimes you have to shirk it.
Peter Pan had it wrong. Being a kid forever isn’t the right idea. Knowing when to let yourself be a 10 year-old again is.
So stay up late.
Make the muffins.
Watch a goofy movie after your bedtime, just like you let the kids do.
Feed and water your inner child.
You need ‘em to remind you how to play.