You can delay it as much as you’d like, but eventually you don’t have any choice but to give in. I never wanted to grow out of Limited Too clothing. Never. But one day the size 16 dress fit me like a crop top and when I tried to browse the store, little girls smelling like strawberry tootsie rolls, would walk up to me and ask me to grab a shirt for them off the rack because they were still doll-sized and I was a giant.
That’s the same way I feel about going out, now. Three years ago, when the clubs shut down at 4am I was sad – why did the deafening beats and the dance moves have to end at 4am! Why, why, why? Now, when (if) I go out, I’m starting to plot my exit strategy to be out of the overcrowded, sweat smelling bar and into my bed before the clock strikes Cinderella’s curfew.
Even though, sometimes, I am scared of my own shadow – when I see myself wearing a pencil skirt and carrying a leather briefcase that was so out of my budget it was a Hanukkah present, or when I order a small side of fries at McDonalds instead of a large because of something called a stubborn metabolism – that is serving as my offense in this fight against growing up – or when I section off 5% of my paycheck and put it in a retirement fund that I won’t be able to touch until I’m at the age where golf and watching Judge Judy at 2 pm finally make sense, there’s still some things I find myself doing and saying that make me feel like the ultimate child:
Because I can’t afford the real stuff. The real metals and the stones and the diamonds that cost so much people buy insurance for them. I’ve never bought insurance for anything wearable – though maybe I should have. I’ve lost heirlooms worth more than the sum of all my belongings and I’ve broken jewelry that the jeweler said was unbreakable. That’s why everything I wear, accessory wise, comes from Forever 21 or Claire’s.
Mostly when I’m hungry and tired – always when I’m hungry and tired.
Grownups order one main meal and then spend a good ten minutes debating on if they should get an appetizer or a side dish, and then another five minutes dripping sweat over if they should order dessert – and they rarely do because the giant slice of cheesecake they order will be 1,672 calories and then they’ll leave this fancy dinner feeling all bad about themselves and their choices and the fact that they can’t stop, won’t stop when it comes to stuffing down food at the dinner table (This is my typical Saturday night).
Kids meals solve all those problems for you. Just pick a main course – though it will be smaller – it will come with something before (a side salad perhaps – or a side of French fries) and after (a sliver of pie or an ice cream sundae). So you’ll be just fine. If all meals were served kids meal sized, I wouldn’t have to wear jeggings to a restaurant I can’t contain myself at. *Sometimes (if you go to the right places) they even come with a toy.
I’m sorry, I had no idea the piece of paper I drew a unicorn eating Chex Mix on top of Mt. Kilimanjaro were your notes that your boss left you after your mid-year review.
Real vitamins are awkwardly shaped and smell bad before you take them and leave a stale taste in your mouth after you take them. Gummy vitamins make you feel like you’re eating candy – and you are – candy that’s packed with Vitamin A,B,C, and D. It’s a step up from taking Flintstone Vitamins and a step down from taking a Women’s One-a-Day.
6. PB&J > Salad for lunch
PB&J takes seconds to make and fills you up for a good chunk of the afternoon. Salad is boring and adult-like and these make your own salad restaurants will charge you $1.50 a topping – so after you’ve loaded up your lettuce with enough ingredients to make it a hearty lunch, you’ve spent $14.50.
Sometimes dessert (a pint of ice cream) counts as dinner.
Because it’s cheaper – and I hope, I really hope, that I have a better chance of passing as a child at the movies than I do as a senior. Until there’s something in between (that doesn’t require a student ID to snag a discount) us 20-somethings have to pull the “oops, did I really buy a child’s ticket?” when we’re caught, in order to try and save a good $5 at the movies.
Chester Cheetah, Tony the Tiger, Toucan Sam – all live inside of my pantry.
You pinky promised we’d eat Chinese food after I came with you to watch Transformers 2! You pinky promised me you’d let me borrow your collection of Kerouac books. You pink promised you would never do the Gangnam Style dance ever, ever again.
-Love nap time
-Would rather swing on monkey bars than lift weights at some formal establishment with muscle exploding guys standing inches away from a gigantic mirror.
-Eat a Go-Gurt over a Greek yogurt
-Saying sorry way, way too much and I love you like it like it’s effortless (because it should be), like there’s no repercussions (because there shouldn’t be) and if there is – when there is, just know I’m sorry and I love you, okay?