There are certain times in life when you realize you have officially crossed over into adulthood. Getting married, buying a house, having a baby, paying taxes, having a favorite burner on the stove, and becoming emotionally attached to a grocery store.
I don’t know exactly when this happened to me, I just know there was a time when grocery shopping was an annoying errand I squeezed in between work, kids sports and activities, and now I have opinions. I know which grocery store has the better produce, I know which one has the good hummus, I know where the avocados are cheaper, which store rearranged everything for absolutely no reason, and which parking lot or I should say parking garage makes me never want to shop there, I’m looking at you Trader Joe’s.
This is who I am now, twenty-three-year-old me would be horrified. She was busy going out with friends, buying completely impractical shoes and making weekend plans. Forty-seven year old me gets genuinely excited when I realize I’m almost out of something because, “Oh good, I can stop at Trader Joe’s.” But even more interesting I have noticed lately, grocery stores aren’t the only evidence. I have a favorite vacuum, I have very specific thoughts about pillows, I have a favorite blanket, I get irritated when someone in my house opens a new container before finishing the old one. There is currently a candle in my house that nobody is allowed to burn because I “like it too much.” Please explain the logic of owning a candle that is apparently too nice to perform its one job.
Even my idea of excitement has changed. A new toaster or vacuum?! AMAZING, I am so excited. A package arrives on the porch and I’m thrilled. What did I order? A dress? New shoes? Something fun? No. Storage containers!! and I cannot wait to use them.
There was a time when Saturday night started at 9 p.m. Now, if someone asks me to go somewhere that starts at 9 p.m., I assume they have confused me with someone else.
My husband and I can spend an embarrassing amount of time discussing what we should watch, only to finally choose something and he falls asleep during the first episode. Maybe this is the real secret nobody tells you about getting older. You don’t suddenly wake up feeling like a grown-up. You’re still basically the same person you were at 25, except now you have reading glasses scattered around the house and get irrationally excited about finding the perfect laundry detergent.
I still listen to music from high school like it came out six months ago. I still occasionally look around for an adult when something goes wrong before remembering that, unfortunately, I am the adult.
I just happen to be an adult who now understands why my mother cared so much about nobody touching the thermostat.
Actually, that may be the biggest plot twist of all.
We spent our entire childhood thinking our parents were weird.
Why did they care if a light was left on?
Why did my dad have a preferred route to literally everywhere?
Why did my mom get excited about a new appliance?
And then one day, without warning, you hear yourself say something like, “We have food at home,” and suddenly you understand everything. You’ve become them.


