grown up

There is something so grown up about groceries. In buying things that are essential to life, food that I will eat, that will disappear, that will need to be replaced. There is something exciting about arriving at the cash register with your basket full of bread and milk and peanut butter, these ordinary items so satisfying to purchase, just screaming to be looked at, to be acknowledged. "Look at me. I'm important. I'm needed," they seem to say. And as I place my items on the register counter, I think, "look how I'm taking care of myself by buying ziploc bags and hangers and utensils. I'm an adult."

There is something so grown up in doing laundry. In folding all of the clothes that you've worn over the past three weeks and putting them back in their proper place. I feel extra proud of myself for remembering to wash the sheets and the towels. It's satisfying to have drawers full of clean clothes, and as I put away my clothes, I itch to clean the rest of my room, and before I know it, the trash has been taken out, the few dishes I have have been washed, the floors vacuumed, and my desk organized. My little half of the room, so simple, all of my belongings packed into just a few square feet, clean and organized, everything in its place. I can take care of my things.

There is something so grown up about having a job, especially in coming home from work. That phrase sounds nice, doesn't it? "Coming home from work." And then putting your share of the tips in your wallet, and then changing out of your ice cream scented shirt and into pajamas, laying on your bed because you're tired from school and scooping ice cream and helping customers, and your sides hurt from laughing so hard at those goofy boys you work with who remind you so much of your cousins that your heart aches.

There is something so grown up about church in college. In getting a calling. In going to stake and regional conference, and hearing them call it the adult session. There is something satisfying in doing your duty as a church and as a ward member. And as you are walking back to your dorm, surrounded by all of these other college kids dressed in their Sunday best, and you realize that you all chose to be there. That there were no parents or leaders dragging you away from other plans. No. You all made this choice on your own.

I'm not quite sure how it feels to have all of one's homework done, but I'm sure that feels pretty satisfying and grown up too.

Sincerely, mad