Today’s Daily Prompt : As a kid, you must have imagined what it was like to be an adult. Now that you’re a grown up, how far off was your idea of adult life?
I’m thirty seven years old now. I’m still not a grown up. That’s not exactly an inspiring statement. A lot of people claim that they’ve never grown up. And it’s never entirely true. I have a lot of adult responsibilities, almost all of which I live up to. I have the philosophical, political and historical adult views. I think. Anyway, I can argue real well in any of those areas. But I’m also still fanatical about Looney Tunes. My personal hero is Captain America. I’m not good at keeping a clean room. Being an older brother to siblings as young as seven, I can tell you that I can play, wrestle, run and shout with the enthusiasm of any child. I even pick on my brothers and sister as though I were only a few years older. That’s an amazing experience because I can’t get grounded for it.
I remember my childhood vividly. I think a lot of people forget so much of theirs. I remember what I thought and why. I do know that I didn’t really spare much thought about becoming an adult. I truly loved and respected my parents. Still do. I no longer have to do what I’m told though. I expected that much, and I was right. I was even more right than I imagined. I did have one major misconception about adulthood. Because I listened to any adult that I had to, because their mysterious conversations seemed so important, I assumed that when I became an adult that I would be taken seriously. Of course, I am not taken seriously. The power of adulthood did not grant me the ability to impress or the stature that requires people to listen. I’m just another silly and sometimes desperate soul who can read books that kids can’t understand. I suppose it’s worth it even if I quipped to my only grown up sibling recently, “I don’t even smoke cigars anymore, so I don’t have any reason to be a grown up.”