I’m with dangermom! While that one-two punch I mentioned earlier stripped me of any stubborn fragments of childhood, it is moments like cleaning the drain catcher thingy that inspire an inner, “Look ma! No… you!”
Putting up shelves, tiling the basement, stringing Christmas lights on my eavestrough, snuggling next to Mrs. Call in our bed - my parents would never let me do any of that stuff when I was a kid!
Oh, and every time I pop into this thread I get that song stuck in my head for hours, “I’m an adult now”
Really. I helped tile the basement, put up shelves and strung lights on the edge of the house as a kid. No snuggling Mrs. Call though. 
I’ve always been handy assembling things and doing electrical work.
Jim
In 1970, I was laid off from my job. Senator Vance Hartke was facing a serious opposition from a John-Bircher named Roudebush. I volunteered to help with the campaign. In the process, I also did some work for Phil Sharp. (Sharp didn’t make it that time, but served several terms in congress later.) One day, waiting for a door-to-door campaign walk to start, I walked up to a drive-up bank window to cash a check. My reflection in the glass showed a tall man in a suit, squinting in the sun, and showing a few gray hairs I had never noticed before.
I was 21.
Embrace frivolity dangermom!
A few years ago when we bought a (nearly new) washer and dryer set (matching no less!) and realized that we would not be making the ritualistic Thursday night trip to the laundromat.
The prosecutor decided to charge me as one.
Extraordinary BS. I’ll see your SIL and raise you a dead aunt.
My aunt developed cancer as a young woman, resulting in the loss of her reproductive organs while she was still in her teens. Nevertheless, she married. She and her husband had no children. They were together until she died in her 40’s.
I wonder if my aunt would be pleased to know she’ll always be a girl by your standards. I wonder how much my uncle’s pain at the loss of his wife is eased by the knowledge that at least he’s still a kid in someone’s eyes.
When I got my mortgage. :eek:
(we will not mention the fact that I’m now older than many of the young movie stars running around these days. :eek: )
Ouch.
I’m sorry for your loss. And sorry that it happened on Christmas.
But, ya know, I feel the same way, and my dad died when I was 46.
I almost posted to this thread this morning, but begged off for the same reason. Births, deaths, professional accomplishments – everyone’s epiphanies seem so profound. Mine? I knew there was no going home again the first time I had to actually buy my own toilet paper.
Oh, but you misunderstand: your aunt and uncle are grownups, just not adults.
(I know: my eyes are rolling again, too…)
Okay, Misnomer, I retract all of my former statements. Your finely nuanced grasp of complex sociological terminology and keenly honed reading comprehension skills have finally convinced me that you are indeed an adult.
:rolleyes:[sup]1000[/sup]
I’m 27. I have bills (that I pay on time…mostly), a job, rent to pay, and I live on the opposite side of the country from my family.
Still feel like a kid.
You know what I think would make me feel adult though? Taking a vacation because I want to and because I could afford it. Pretty much every trip I take now is because of family obligation, 'cause I am too financially-challenged to justify the expense otherwise. Last year, though, I was in a position that I could start planning a real trip that I wanted to take, and doing research on airfare and train routes made me feel terribly grown up. (Of course, I ended up having to go to my cousin’s wedding instead.)
What about your first parent/teacher interview where the teacher is 15 years younger than you… what a wake up call!
Tell me what I’ve misunderstood. Explain the “complex sociological terminology” that I’m not comprehending. Clarify how you haven’t contradicted yourself. Expound on the difference between “grownup” and “adult.” Prove me wrong.
Or, make ridiculous generalizations and then feign frustration when you’re called on your bullshit (by more than one poster).
Your choice.
Oh, wait, you already made it…
I had an affair on my married ladyfriend.
There’s something mildly ironic about a self-appointed diviner of adulthood status in others acting childish.
Misnomer, before you posted this I had composed a long post that basically retracted my earlier post snapping at your snarky reply to cwthree and apologizing to any and all offended parties for conflating the terms ‘parent’ and ‘adult’ to support a joking observation I made many years ago; No one becomes an adult on purpose, their kids force them in to it.
The hampsters ate that one. So here it is again. I admit one can be an adult without being a parent. That is the first time I have contradicted myself in this thread.
As to your continued assertions that I contradicted myself earlier, that is not the case. I stated that all adults were parents. I did NOT state that all parents were adults. When you failed to see that distinction, I ‘expounded’ by excluding bad parents from the title of adult, and I defined bad parent as one that abused or neglected their children. You still don’t get it. Let me make an analogous statement to ‘clarify’ this for you. All frogs are amphibians does not equal all amphibians are frogs. Is that clear enough for you?
It’s okay, my kids are grown now, so I can revert. 
The last piece of the adult puzzle was put into place only two years ago when I was sixty! I was able to release the need for inheriting anything formerly promised to me by my mother. She is no longer able to manipulate me emotionally with her favortism and possessions. No more bait and switch! It doesn’t matter. May those who inherit them enjoy them in peace.