What makes a grown-up?

When I qualified for my first credit card, I thought I was a grown up.

When I got married, I knew I was a grown-up.

And, then I had children and thought, now I am officially an adult.

When I was asked to be a chaperone I felt I was a "cool" adult.

I later took on all the responsibilities of single parenthood and said, this is what it means to be an adult.

When I bought my first home I learned mortgage = adult.

I was with my grandmother when she breathed her last and felt that moment was a turning point into adulthood.

I helped my mother make the arrangements for my grandmother's passing and felt even older.  It was the first time I had ever had to help pick out a casket.  [I had always said I wanted to be buried in the cheapest box possible but after I saw the garish pink and blue flocked caskets, I decided to rethink my position.]

When I got bifocals I kept my adult secret to myself.

When I got trifocals I bragged about how easily I adapted.  That's what grown-ups do.

When I became a grandmother I announced that it was a premature event!

When my children complained that my television was too loud, I suggested they had ruined their hearing with their ipods and surround sound.

When I eat at a cafeteria and don't want the blue Jello, I realize my childhood is fading.

When people, whom I consider to be my peers, call me Momma and ask my advice, I tell myself I am flattered.  I'm not sure I am.

When AARP started sending me mailers I considered it junk mail.

When I can eat what I want, when I want it but still choose vegetables I feel very mature.

And, since both my parents are relatively healthy and living on their own I realize I have not had to take on that ultimate role of caregiver or decision maker so my segue into adulthood is not complete.  I am grateful to still be the child.

Tags: adulthood, grown up, grandmother, veggies, caskets, AARP, trifocals, mortgage, child