In my gerontology class in college, I learned that age can be defined in many ways. For example, you might interact with people much younger or older than you, so your “social age” may not reflect your accumulation-of-years-on-Earth age. Maybe you have a “career” age that indicates how far up the ladder you’ve climbed. And now, our Wii age tells us how badly we are out of shape. (I think I’m 40 on a good day and 76 on the days I draw the boxing fitness test.) In my daily life, the more important variety of age is the how old do I REALLY look age? Because I think I’ll always be 15. I’m not a millimeter over 5’3” and weigh in just under the limit where they let you give blood. I’m constantly mistaken for a student at the junior high in which I work, which all goes together to make it seem really odd that I’m turning 27 tomorrow.
Today we sold Luke’s truck, and as I received the check from the buyer, it struck me that this is something adults do. It got me to thinking…what other grown-up, adult, full-fledged big-girl things have I done in my life?
Paying my own rent and bills. On the FAFSA application and in actual practice, my Estimated Family Contribution was zero. From the day I spent $50 in Dollar General buying laundry soap, a broom, and other dorm room essentials, I’ve been financially on my own. I use that term loosely because God provided the money for me to fund college and pay for rent and food. I didn’t do that…but neither did my parents. Therefore, I score some adult points.
On a vaguely related side note, I’ve never known anyone in my family to maintain a working car for more than a couple of years. Also, they don’t buy cars from dealers. They’re more into the discount-if-you-can-make-it-run variety. Keeping Susie (my reputable-dealer car) until she dies (years and years from now) will be an act of positive rebellion. Adult points!
Getting married. Not everyone is an adult when they get married. Many adults are not very grown-up when they tie the knot, so we tried to make sure we were. Maybe you’re never really old enough to get married, but it’s all about whether you can grow together as you add years.
Getting a real job. It doesn’t take much emotional strength (ooh, adult point for using a big, grown-up-sounding phrase!) to find the perfect job, get settled in, and ride into the sunset with a 40-year career and a tidy retirement. Strength comes from getting the world’s suckiest job, surviving it, finding a job that is worse than that one, being unemployed because you weren’t asked to come back, and surviving it all…and then finding the perfect job, getting settled in, etc., etc., and having the true ability to appreciate what you have.
So there it is, all the proof and evidence a person could need to conclude that I’m a grown-up. So no matter what factors may indicate otherwise, tomorrow I will turn 27, whatever that means in the grand scheme of things. Tonight, though, Luke is taking me to Red Lobster, and we are going to have a fabulous last night of my 26!
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