Party Like It’s 1809
When I was younger I rather imagined that being a grown up involved moving briskly, drinking coffee, awesome hair, and just being important.
So, naturally when there was a chance to exercise what I was so sure was my own adult maturity at the mature age of 7- I took it and ran with it. My mom was off doing something adult and had just made a pot of coffee. I was normally the trustworthy kid, and I knew better than to touch something hot.
My poor mom. Trusting me at 7 was a very bad idea.
I wanted to be grown up darn it, and so grown up I was going to be. Like most things it seems with me, that first foray into maturity was a very bad thing.
A. VERY. BAD. THING.
Because, to me walking briskly didn’t hold much appeal (I was a very lazy child), being important wasn’t really my bag ‘o fun (soul crushing self-esteem issues), but awesome hair and coffee?
I could do that. I could rock that.
I will do that. I will rock that.
I would be the 7 year old going on 35, I’d get all the great adult things.People would come and ask for my opinion of many things, and of course knowing me those opinions would include legos, video games, and cats (I had the internet mentality, before there was an internet). I’d be Madame President Ninja Archeologist Astronaut*, this was going to be SO COOL.
Awesome hair, that ‘I just don’t care’ look that comes from doing whatever you want and it would be AWESOME.
So awesome, you guys.
Good a time as ever to mention my scanner’s broken and my tablet is on the fritz, so quick sketches shall suffice.
Now before this, keep in mind that sugar to me was awesome. I mean it was my mound of happiness a la Tony Montana. Not to mention, I already was a nervous child so that reference is more than likely a lot more appropriate than I’d care to admit.
I really thought that sneaking a cup and some of my mom’s freshly made coffee was a great idea, however what I didn’t stop and think about was the main issue that was ‘the ninja turtles cup’.
Now the ‘ninja turtles cup’ was a beast. Normally, I’d only have water or sugar-free juice in it. Of course, even then- it was never filled all the way. But, that was my mom pouring it for me AS A KID. If I was going to be a mature adult, I needed to do this on my own.
No way this would go wrong.
I was an adult now, and I felt it. As I kept sipping at the coffee in my super-amazing ninja turtle cup I was filled with pride.
Eventually, another feeling started to replace that pride.
The caffeine hit hard.
At first, I was convinced that it was the maturity (I.. had some strange problems as a kid). Almost immediately, I had a minor feeling that something was wrong. Though I couldn’t really put my finger on it.
Then it hit me.
Oh. My. God.
I was dying.
My heart was going to be exploding in my chest at any moment.
With my heart in the process of gaining enough power to light a minor city, I realize that now was the point I had to truly act. I had to be the reasonable and responsible adult I now was.
So, I did what any self-respecting grown up would do.
I screamed for my mom.
After a bit of tears, the painful crash, and me feigning death (I.. was also very dramatic) for a few hours. I realized that maybe pushing harder to be an adult could wait (and I’m happy to say, at 28 I still think it is).
At least me and coffee have a healthier relationship now (if by healthy we can mean I’m completely dependent on it in the morning).
You know what? Reading over this now, I haven’t really learned anything from this. But hey, this is real life not an after school special. In real life, caffeine addiction is the basis for random blogs, and 7 year olds feel as if they knew everything, even when they seem to go out of their way to prove otherwise. So, I suppose that is a lesson.
*Hmm.. Kiddo makes more sense now.