Since having Oliver, old people like to play the "grown up" card on me. As in, "Wow, you're so grown up. You've sure had to grow up fast!" I never know what to say to that. Really, what can one say to that?
There is obvious option A:
"Why yes, I am impeccably grown up."
I cannot say that. First of all, I don't need to shove it in everyone's face that I rock. I mean... I do rock. But really? I have to pretend like I don't know that. It's some sort of social law, I'm pretty sure. If I were just to be like, "Why yes, I am so grown up that I have at least 3 mortgages and I'm an active member of the booster club..." people would reconsider and their internal maturity meter would be like: ERROR. ERROR. A true grown up would not say that.
But secondly? Next week they'll probably pull up next to me at a stoplight and see me grooving out to Herbie Hancock's "Rockit" or some other equally lame song. Or worse, they'll run into me at the grocery store tomorrow and see me arranging the produce in my cart into suggestive positions.
Then the jig would be up, and they'd be like, "Well, guess I had it all wrong about that one.. She is so immature!" (Note that "immature" would most definitely rhyme with the word "connoisseur". Because that is how old people talk.)
The other response, Option B, also has flaws:
"No... really. I'm not an adult."
It's always awkward to disagree when somebody pays you a compliment. The conversation always goes like this:
Person 1: Compliment! You look so nice today. That is a great scarf you're wearing. It totally matches your arm hair.
Person 2: What?This old thing? No... it's just some ratty thing I found in my closet. I think that might even be baby vomit on the corner of it.
Person 1: No, really! That scarf must be the colour of your inner aura. It is so you! Absolutely stunning!
**Awkward gap in conversation because everything that needs saying is already said, any further talking would be superfluous.**
Person 2: (It becomes obvious person one will not back down, so you admit defeat.) Umm.. well... thanks? I guess it is pretty nice?
So in the end, Option B really becomes the same as Option A, because somehow you awkwardly end up agreeing with them and admitting that you are, indeed, awesome.
BUT ANYWAY. Since none of that really made sense to any of you people out there, I have created a simple list of ways I fail at being an adult. Enjoy.
1. I fail at multitasking.
Sure, you're probably right that I can do each individual task required of an adult. I can balance a check book. I can pay bills. Probably, if given sufficient time, I could learn what a mortgage is and successfully execute it on my theoretical house. I can shave my legs and sometimes get up before 10 AM! But really? You can't ask me to do all of that in one day. That is faarrr too taxing on my brain.
I understand that some adults out there get up, shower, brush their teeth, put on make up, put on clean clothes, and then START THEIR DAY at a normal job. One that probably doesn't even involve playing with Little People or making roast beef sandwiches.
Then they come home and can still do some laundry (most definitely not forgetting it halfway through and having to retrieve it in the morning), eat a meal (that most likely involves more than opening up a can) and find time to watch a show on TV.
Is that insane or what?! I feel like it's a good day if I manage to take a shower AND put on clean clothes AND have at least on piece of clothing on my baby. If you want me to pay bills that day or clean the shower? Well, I can't do it all. Either I can pay bills or I can get dressed, it's your call.
2. While other adults are watching the news and relating to pressing issues in the world, I am watching B movies on Netflix and laughing at fart jokes.
Jared hates this, but I really can't watch much of the news. It is depressing. Call me sheltered, but I think I'm better off not knowing that 472 orphans drowned to death when their ship sank after running into a pod of endangered dolphins. Oh, and by the way, that was the last known pod of that endangered dolphin species. And also they'll all commit seppuku now because the dolphin that was tragically rendered in twain by ship's hull was their leader, and didn't you know that they are highly intelligent animals with deep familial bonds?
95% of the stories on the news are either depressing and/or deeply disturbing. The other 5%? Those stories are just dumb.
I figure that if anything happens I should know about, it will show up on the internets and/or my more involved and worldly friends can tell me about it. THEN I will go read the news story.
But until then? I'll be laughing at that scene in the movie where the talking dog leaves a flaming paper bag of his own poo on the cranky neighbor's front door step.
3. I still laugh when people say "Vagina."
I think that one is self explanatory. Add to that list the words menstruation, penis, and hemorrhoid.
4. I blame things I've done on my baby.
AWwww... Babies. They do the darndest things!"
After admitting this on a public forum, I'll probably have to stop using this trick. No one will ever believe me ever again. Ever. Never ever.
5. I don't drink coffee.
Other items on my "do not consume" list include: 1. herbed tilapia fillets. 2. other sea foods. 3. fancy nut mixes. 4. dark chocolate.
Items on my "please do consume often" list include: 1. french fries. 2. bread. 3. milk. 4. ice cream.
Note the similarities between my "consume often" list and the typical toddler's palate.
6. I consider Target to be a "high end" store.
Real adults probably buy their furniture somewhere besides Target. They probably walk into Slumberland all willy-nilly and decide on a whim that they need an ecru sectional. They purchase it. They probably even take advantage of the zero down payment plan! And they definitely do not shop at Walmart. Oh no, only college kids and degenerates buy furniture at Walmart.
But when I'm in Target? I feel classy. I can rub shoulders with people who work downtown and are grabbing a sandwich from the D'amico's deli case! Frequently I see something at Target that I like, and then I look at the price tag and decide... what?! No way. I can find that on Craigslist.
Then I end up bringing home the most ridiculous, ugliest coffee table ever known to mankind because it was "unique!" "one of a kind!" and only $5. And even though, deep in my heart, I know it is a monstrosity... I love it because I found it on Craigslist and I had to carry it down from a 6th story walk up, load it into my parents' borrowed van, and lug it into my apartment. I'll be damned if I don't fall in love with whatever it is by the time it touches my living room. Then, whenever somebody comes over and gives it the critical eye, I feel like I have to defend that bastard love child of particle board and shellac.
And that's not all! There is a lot more. But it is 11:27 and I suddenly decided that I should be drinking a glass of milk before going to bed and reading my zombie book. So, on that note, I end with...
7. I still drink a glass of milk before bed, and read books about zombies.
(I also pick out my books at Barnes and Noble based on the colour of the cover. One day I bought only lime green books. Two of those books are my absolute favorites, FYI.)