Time Marches On: Signs That I’m Turning into an Adult

There are certain moments that pop up every now and then during which I realize, “huh, I think this is a sign that I am no longer a kid.” These are rather unsettling, however, because in my head I’m still a teenager. I try to avoid thinking about the whole “you’re an adult and you’ve got responsibilities like knowing how to change batteries in a smoke detector, and starting a 401k, and getting your own health insurance.”

Anyway, no matter how hard I try to avoid thinking about the fact that teenagers think I’m old enough to now be addressed as “ma’am,” I can’t go a few days without being reminded of my entrance into adulthood.

Here are some of my more recent “I’m not a kid anymore” observations.

  • My mom has a long-standing love of white dinnerware. I recently spent a solid 15 minutes perusing the white dinnerware aisle at Target BY MYSELF before selecting a few items of my own. Yep, I’m turning into my mother.
  • I have to Google acronyms I see online. IIRC? What in the world does that mean?
  • I witnessed people doing some dance called “the Wobble” for the first time ever at a wedding this summer. It confused me.
  • College freshmen look like babies to me.
  • It seems absurd to let a 16-year-old have a driver’s license.
  • I don’t understand how Disney Channel shows are even popular. Back in my day, they were way better than the cheesy crap that is shown now.
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