“I am convinced that most people do not grow up...We marry and dare to have children and call that growing up. I think what we do is mostly grow old. We carry accumulation of years in our bodies, and on our faces, but generally our real selves, the children inside, are innocent and shy as magnolias.”
― Maya Angelou
This morning, I puttered around my kitchen pretending, as I often do, to be a grown-up. I fed my animals and I started a pot of strong coffee in the coffee machine that is barely limping along due to both overuse and neglect. As the coffee brewed, MOST of me wanted to go ahead and sit down with a book while eating cereal but, sighing inwardly and embracing my pretend maturity, I unloaded the dishwasher instead.
|I LOOK like a grown-up. Those are READERS.And wrinkles.|
I certainly do SOUND like a grown-up, don't I? But the reality is that I FIGHT maturity every step of the way.
- When it rains, I STILL want to put on red rain boots and splash through the puddles. Sometimes I still do.
- I don't WANT to go to bed at night and get a good night's sleep (so I will be able to THINK the next day and not react emotionally when the check-out clerk at the grocery store asks me if I can take my change in ones). What I WANT to do is stay up and look up at the stars or read my books into the wee hours of the morning.
- I forget my vitamins ALMOST every single day.
- I still get a surge of exhilaration when I get an answer right or when I win a game. I swear here and now that if I EVER beat Thing 1 at chess I will do a happy dance IN HIS FACE (I am grown-up enough to realize that I will probably never beat him at chess even though I TAUGHT HIM THE DAMN GAME).
- I laugh like crazy over puns and corny jokes. And I tell them over and over and over and over. I still laugh.
- I sometimes have dessert for dinner. And I let my kids do the same.
- I whine when I don't get my way. Intentionally.
- I cry a lot and over things that don't matter even a little bit.
- Sometimes I want to run away. Sometimes, I get a strong urge to get into my grown-up car Stella and ride with her into the night and then abandon her at some airport while I buy my one-way ticket to somewhere warm where I don't have to think so much and where I can go to bed late and wake up late and NOT have a dishwasher to unload.
Or maybe, as I continue to mature, I'll decide that it's not so bad being a kid in a grown-up body. And I'll make a permanent hopscotch game on my driveway.
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