I don’t feel like being a grown-up today. I’m done waking kids up for school or fixing breakfast, lunch, and dinner every single day. I don’t feel like
fighting with nurturing my children. I don’t want to fold one more pair of underwear or sweep one more pile of crumbs.
I’m don’t feel like being a grown-up today.
If only there were a ship sailing to Pleasure Island on the days I don’t want to be responsible or stick to a schedule. Isn’t there a support group that meets in a church basement to discuss favorite Netflix shows and eat candy corn? We could call it Anti-grown-ups Anonymous.
I know there’s a life lesson in here somewhere. Probably about discipline or doing the right thing even when you don’t feel like it, but instead I’m just gonna lay here and eat potato chips, and I’m not even going to exercise afterwards, because that’s what grown-ups do, and I don’t feel like being a grown-up today.
I don’t care if the electric bill gets paid or if there’s gas in the car. I don’t want to be bothered with elections, taxes, or grocery shopping. Oh wait. Grocery shopping. I just had to bring that one up, didn’t I? I guess I’ll have to go grocery shopping now, since there’s not much I can make for dinner with a bottle of ketchup, greek yogurt, and last week’s fuzzy leftovers. Oh yeah, and that little thing called child neglect.
I sit down to scribble down a list and pretend to care about meal planning, nutrition, and a budget. On my way out the door, my eyes lock on the pile of dishes. The dishes and I stare each other down, in a battle of dominance, but I quickly look away, because we both know who’s gonna win that showdown. I don’t know where they get their stamina, their tenacity, their power over me. As I shut the door behind me, I’m sure I can hear them chuckle, “See you when you get back, sweetie.”
Heading to the store, I pass Starbucks.
Wow. A Salted Cameral Macchiato sounds ah-mazing right about now. Wish I could have one. Wait one cotton pickin’ second! Who’s gonna stop me? I flip a u-turn and pull up to the drive-thru.
That’s the beauty of being a grown-up.