One of my oldest and dearest friends lost her father recently. It was a tragedy, not because he was young, but because he was the kind of father kids saw on television and never believed existed in real life. You know the kind of dad who takes time with their kids, actually acts like he likes them and their friends. That was him and then some. He was kind, funny and the kind of person who was willing to answer questions and seek out answers.

When I was lamenting to a mutual friend how sorry I was that I was unable to attend the funeral, he commented that now we are the ones up on deck. Up on deck? What? Yes, we are the matriarchs and patriarchs of this generation. Holy crap on a biscuit, Batman. I’m what? I’m barely an adult. I mean, I know I’m old and all. My body tells me that every day. And yes, I’ve been doing this adulting stuff for a long time, but I’ve been faking it. I don’t know what I’m doing! No one should expect me to be all wise Yoda. I’m still trying to figure things out myself. Every time I think I have all the answers they change the questions. There is no way I am ready to be in charge.

I wonder if our parents felt this way and were just better at faking it? My grandparents really seemed to know something, even after all these years I still hear my grandmother’s words in my head, and she didn’t think I was listening to her.

What do you think? Are we adult enough compared to our parents and grandparents, or have we had it too easy? Were they just faking it too? Were they just confused teenagers amid the wrinkles and gray hairs? Thankfully my mom is still with us, so when they’re looking for an adultier, adult, I can point them in her direction.

I am not ready for this…

Being an adult is over rated. I want a refund. Can I have my childhood back?