"What did you just say?" I looked across the messy kitchen island, over the gourmet meal of macaroni and cheese with hot dogs, to the innocent face of the six-year-old boy that I nanny.
He looked at me determined and restated his sentiments: "I said you are an adult."
It's not that I didn't hear what he said, but I just didn't believe it. I am only twenty years old. I am definitely not an adult. I don't know if there was supposed to be this magical moment where my adulthood card would be bestowed upon me, but I felt like mine had gotten lost in the mail.
I have always understood that when people turn 18, they are considered an adult and they can officially make decisions for themselves. However, when that monumental day came for me that I was supposed to become an adult, I found myself still eating a bowl of Captain Crunch Berries and asking my mom to make my dentist appointments. Okay, sure, I could vote now, and I did fulfill that part of my civic duty, but did that mean I was an adult? Nope, I certainly was not. I would not accept this full adult role if it was not forced on me.
College time came around soon after. I found myself worrying more and more about what I wanted my life to be like after school. I worried about finding a good major to fit me and getting done on time. I started doing all my own laundry and dishes, but those weren't entirely new tasks for me. Was I an adult then? Even if I was paying for college myself, with loans that I don't want to think about, I wasn't paying regular bills other than general tuition twice a year. I didn't pay my phone bill or very many living expenses. I still wasn't really an adult, but someone stuck in a pre-adult stage who thought they could pretend every now and then when there were younger children or high schoolers around.
During my second year of college, I found myself worrying about what kind of internships I could get that would help me expand my social and professional network, and one that would lead me to a possible career. I decided I wanted to study abroad and live on my own and travel for awhile. Was this the key deciding moment that I was waiting for (or dreading, more likely)? I'm still going to say no. I still quite enjoyed coming home for breaks and getting a break from being an adult. However, when I was expected to be an adult, I found myself looking for a more adult-y adult. Someone who was much better at adulting than I was.
It's the summer before my Junior year of college. I am preparing to leave to go abroad. I just applied for my first credit card. I'm concerned about how to build up a good credit score so I can get a house and a new car someday, what taxes are going to be like and what they are going towards, and I have finally started wanting to watch the news every morning over my bowl of Captain Crunch Berries. I even found myself the other day going out of the way to look up news stories going on in other countries so I could stay involved. I'm saying phrases like: "Drive safe. Call me when you get there." However, I don't think I'm an adult on the real adult scale. I'm still not paying for many bills; I'll run to Target every now and then to get groceries, and I'll get annoyed with middle school/high school aged students not acting more mature. However, if you think about it, who doesn't? Wait a second, is this what adulthood looks like? Is it true? Am I an adult? Did I become this without even trying? Maybe that little boy was right.
I sat there for a moment really thinking over what he said. The terrible realization that he could be right was racing my mind. Then, a couple words popped into my mind as to how I felt about this realization. All of the words had four letters, and none could be said in front of that sweet little six-year-old boy.
