December 6, 2013 by Katia
Remember childhood and how relicy grownups seemed? They were simultaneously a living proof of ancient times and alien life forms. You couldn’t look at them without wondering “what’s up with the differentness?” I mean their food, for God’s sake, and what was that they were wearing? Or worse yet, the stuff they thought YOU would enjoy wearing? Grownups read thick books with small letters, were very slow and tended to stay in one place all the time and talk. Some of them (think the uber-relicy ones) gave wet kisses and there wasn’t one of us who didn’t notice. I remember my childhood friend telling me he thought they probably pulled their tongues out right before landing that smooch on your cheek. Remember how much smarter YOU were and how they basically just by virtue or their state of being lent themselves perfectly to the position of Prank Victim?
One of my favourite childhood memories is playing pranks on a generation most of which doesn’t exist anymore. I remember a large gathering at my mom’s house when said friend and I were pouring hair mousse into little cups, decorating it with colourful flower-shaped beads and serving it to select guests as edible mousse. Til this day I don’t know if they faked their way through our reckless little joke or if they genuinely bought it which at age 8 would have been so DUH.
Since we knew all of that about grownups it was obvious that we were going to avoid all of those traps and that none of this fish-for-dinner-wet-smooch-crap was going to go down when the time came.
So how did this happen?
I’ve become a grown up cliché.
The other day Four Year Old snorted at something I said and used a tone with me or perhaps he just said “mama, don’t you know?…” and then I remembered: oh yeah, that’s right! He’s new, I’m old, he knows everything!
And I don’t blame him for thinking that. Here’s that silly mama character he sees.
I use empty threats because I’m actually perfectly happy staying in one spot and it’s going to be just as difficult to evacuate myself from this bed as it is to convince Four Year Old to sleep in it.
I can’t listen to Today’s Pop Hits playlist, my former bread and butter, on Songza without experiencing mild anxiety.
I eat stuff that looks like sushi and eggplant and sundried tomatoes and hummus.
Sometimes I wear red pants (is that what the kids are wearing these days?).
I say stuff like “how many times do I have to tell you…” in an exasperated tone.
I ask myself whether Sons of Anarchy is a band or a show on TV.
I’d rather sleep than play.
Whenever I’m invited to play something really cool like Santa’s Warrior (don’t ask) or “I’ll be Star Wars, you be the Bad Guy” I always prefer boring house chores.
I have a really hard time pulling myself back up to an upright position after changing One Year Old’s bum.
I eventually realize that One Direction IS NOT The Wanted.
And the hardest one to admit or explain: I’ll occasionally give my babies a wet smooch on the cheek. (hashtag WTF).
So how did I get here? I’m chucking it all up to fatigue and it’s all chuckable. Even the wet smooch – I was so tired I forgot to put my tongue back in my mouth – see? It works.
Are you a grown up cliche?
This post was an FTSF post on the topic “My Favourite Childhood Memory Is…”
Please visit our wonderful hosts:
Stephanie at Mommy, For Real
Kristi at Finding Ninee
Janine at Janine’s Confessions of a Mommyaholic
Image Source: Wikimedia Commons