What’s a moment when you realized you were officially an adult?
Have I ever officially been an adult? Getting married, becoming a parent, holding a job and dealing with what sometimes seems like innumerable responsibilities are all part of being an adult. I’ve done those things. I guess I’m officially an adult.
But I spent this morning on the beach. I basked in the surf. I picked up seashells. I laughed at the gulls as they skittered across the sand. I swam in the pool. I’m excited to go for ice cream in a few minutes. (Okay, I know I’m going to have gelato, which is more of an adult thing, you get my drift).
We’re spending a week at the beach on Sanibel Island, and I swear my blood pressure dropped as we drove across the causeway and onto the island yesterday. This is a time to put those adult responsibilities and worries aside for a few days. I’m “adulting” as little as possible. And maybe that’s what makes me officially an adult. I can make the decision let the kid inside play in the surf, pick up the shell that isn’t perfect, put my feet up, or eat that ice cream. And the realization that the kid is still there may be the best part of adulthood.
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