Okay. Done.
Too late, you’re going on the list! 
go shopping for clothes with my mother
suffer teenage angst (adult angst is quite enough, thank you)
deal with a menstrual cycle
deliver newspapers in mid-winter
toilet train toddlers
take algabra and calculus classes
- Date
- Go to high school
- Think about unplanned/unwanted pregnancy
- Do direct end-user support
-feel guilty about sex or masturbation. While I changed my attitudes on this before I gave up religion entirely, it was still giving me major cognitive dissonance.
-live at home anymore. Moving out in a few weeks. I actually super-love living at home, but it’s time to move on.
I never have to speak to or deal with my mother-in-law again. Ever.
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Menstruate. I, for one, welcomed menopause. And being afraid of getting pregnant, when younger.
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Dating. I dated for what seems forever and loathed it (like many other things in life, I did it, but loathed it). If a genie popped up, offered to make me single and in my 20’s again, I would run like the wind. I would HATE to be in my 20’s and face the horrors I read about now - at least back in my heyday I got wined, dined, and taken places.
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Come home with a newborn baby and raise it. I was SO terrified. I didn’t know anything about them, I didn’t have any friends or neighbors in a similar situation. Oh, it wasn’t ALL bad, it turned out surprisingly enjoyable for the most part, and I have a wonderful brilliant beautiful loving grown daughter for my efforts. So I must have done something right! But those first few years were terrifying.
Surprised at all the hate for dating. When I was happily involved in a loving relationship I actually missed dating. The chase, the excitement, the adventure of it. I was happy to renounce that for the sake of the relationship, but I still missed it. And while I am disappointed that the relationship has now ended, I’m happy that I can date again. I just see yummy box of chocolates to be tried, even if thereare always the ones (perhaps too many) that are that nasty goopy strawberry stuff.
Oh dear, and the definition of Irish Alzheimer’s is to forget everything except the grudges. I’m done for. 
The reason I hated dating was because I was so bad at it. And, for most part, unsuccessful at it. Lots of first dates that seemed promising only to lead to no second dates. Very few relationships made it past four dates. Many long periods – months, even years – with no dates at all.
I feel tremendously lucky that I did meet my wife. She’s one of maybe three women I’ve met in my life who really gets me.
Send checks to my kids’ colleges. They are both done! And, as a corollary, deal with teenagers. They were both good, but it is a relief that they made it to adulthood in excellent shape.
And for a real golden oldie, worry about getting drafted. It was a long time ago, but my draft lottery number was 11, so thank you Tricky Dick.
Sorry, I missed that era. For us young’uns, could someone kindly explain what it means if your draft lottery goes all the way up to 11? (I assume I’m the only one making a “Spinal Tap” reference and that Voyager’s post meant something else.) Also, I’ll go ahead and get off your lawn now, sir.
As others have said, date. I’m gay and extremely shy to boot, so the whole dating thing was a complete nightmare for me.
On that note, stay in the closet. The most important people in my life have known for years, and they’ve been supportive or at least not actively antagonistic.
Worry about school. Though I’ll probably never shake the school-related anxiety dreams. I’ll probably have them when I’m on my deathbed.
And, probably most importantly, I’m glad I never have to deal with my mother ever again. It got to the point where I either had to cut her off or let her destroy my life. I cut her off, and my life is so much better for it.