I think I originally posted this on The Blue Doodle… not sure if I posted it here or not… so I am going to give it a go
The Beauty of Age
I remember being a child and wishing for nothing more than to be grown up. I am sure we all did this when we were younger, and now wish we could take it back. Maybe spend a little more time being a kid.
I wanted to drive so badly. I remember just aching at fourteen to get behind the wheel of a car. If I was lucky, on the trip back from Grandmother’s house, my mom would let me drive some… what a feeling. Driving 25 mph on a 55 mph highway… trying my damnedest to keep from swerving all over the place; that woman had nerves of steel.
My son talks about driving now, he’s eight. Like that is EVER going to happen. I am never letting that kid have the wheel of my car, and just sit in the passenger seat and watch. That is crazy…
NO WAY
! He wants to grow up and drive. He’s even talking about getting married. He’s EIGHT!!! What are they teaching these kids in school? He’s a super smart kid, but we have the same dumb conversations I had with my mother…”Why can’t I just be grown up now?”
“Gabe, it’s not that great being a grown up,” I have to say.
“You get to drive and stay up late… you even get to eat ice cream for breakfast.” He is upset with me because I do occasionally eat ice cream for breakfast. That is one of the many perks of this grown up bit that I am happy to say I actually dig.
“Well, it’s not all that great. Besides you spend your whole life wishing for more. I wished I was sixteen too, so I could drive. Then I wished I was eighteen so I could smoke…”
“But you don’t smoke…” he interrupts.
“I know I don’t smoke… but I could if I wanted to, and that is the beauty of it.”
“I still don’t get it.”
“Well you are eight, y’know? After eighteen you have twenty-one. Oh man twenty-one… good times. You can drink..”
“I can drink…” he says.
“No… alcohol,” he is looking at me very puzzled, “Like beer…”
“That’s a drug! Why would you want to drink that?”
“Man… I don’t know why you would want to; you just do. ANYway, at twenty-five your insurance drops, and I think you can rent a car.”
“Insurance? What is that?” I really didn’t think I was going to have to go into premiums and plan choices with my son, but you’d be amazed at the questions he asks, and if I can’t answer them… I fake it. Surely he will forget before he hits therapy in a few years, right? Skip ahead several minutes later, “Well…”
“After that it’s pretty much down hill… I think maybe all you have to look forward to after that is AARP.”
“What’s that?” again with the questions. Damn it, kid… can you give me a moment of peace so I can think clearly for a moment? Can you stop talking long enough for me to remember why I wanted kids in the first place? Yeah I can’t wait till you’re grown up too… so you will know everything; or at least THINK you do.
“Well,” I look into his eyes and see that unconditional love he has for me. I see the spark… curiosity that makes up his brilliant mind. For a moment I grasp a hold of that childhood that quickly raced past me, and I remember exactly how he feels… that ache to be like my parents, because they were my world; I am his world. I smile and feel the spirit of my youth dancing in my head… answering the best I can, “you get free coffee at the gas station when you fill up…”
“But you don’t drink coffee,” he interrupts.
“I know I don’t drink coffee… but I could if I wanted to.”
~2
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