When Did I Grow Up?

I don’t know when it happened, but at some point, I grew up. One minute, I’m worried about passing the driver’s test and picking the perfect date movie, the next my arms are too short to read my income tax statement and I’m buying reading glasses. In truth, it was a blur. Yes, it’s true that I don’t have any idea when I transitioned into an adult. Maybe it was high school graduation, or perhaps the college diploma did it. I sure didn’t feel like an adult, but maybe I was. I guess it could have been the security clearance government job or graduate school. Marriage might have been the turning point, but then again, we just felt like two kids having fun, never wanting it to end.

When I started teaching, I acted like an adult, but it really did only seem a relative condition, seeing how I was the only one in the room not passing notes and shooting spit wads. When I had my daughter, I knew it was time to be an adult, but truthfully, I was terrified I couldn’t pull it off. Fortunately, through the grace of God, I did. And though I don’t quite know when it happened, I certainly know I’m glad it did.

You see, being a kid is great. No responsibilities, bubble gum without worrying about caps or fillings, indigestion free pizza, sleeping in, and comic books. That’s not a bad life. But for one of my favorite things in the world, I had to grow up. Nothing, not ice cream before vegetables or Saturday morning cartoons is as great as hearing my daughter refer to me lovingly in casual conversation as “my dad.” “My dad gets me old music.” “My dad likes to ride bikes with me.” “My dad swims with me.” I may not know the moment I grew up, but I sure know the moment I realized just how great it was to be grown up.