As I look back on my early twenties, it feels like just yesterday. The days filled with wild nights, questionable fashion choices, and first tattoos may seem like a distant memory, but they linger vividly in my mind—almost too vividly, considering the years that have flown by since then.
Maybe it’s my petite frame that often leads others to believe I’m still fresh out of college, or perhaps it’s the rare moments of uninterrupted sleep that keep my complexion youthful—just kidding, that’s not it. Regardless, I’ve always thought my partner and I were pretty hip. Sure, we have our fair share of responsibilities, but we’re not officially “those old folks,” right? Turns out, I was mistaken.
Last weekend, we seized a rare opportunity for a child-free day and headed out for some much-needed fun. The drive was a glorious six hours, and we soaked in the freedom of playing our music instead of listening to the endless loop of kids’ songs. We indulged in snacks without having to share, and yes, I even managed to sneak in a nap. Who knew that a road trip sans children could be so relaxing?
On our way back, we stopped at a burger joint for dinner. My partner grabbed the food while I settled into a quiet booth, checking my phone for updates from the sitter—who, by the way, is a dear friend we tricked into babysitting for a day. As we began to enjoy our meal, a group of young men plopped down beside us. They were tanned, muscular, and dressed in barely-there tank tops, clearly trying to show off their physiques. They could have been mistaken for surfers, though we were nowhere near the ocean.
My partner leaned over and asked, “Do you think they’re college students?” Trying to be discreet, I glanced at them and nodded, “Definitely.” Just then, a gaggle of girls burst in, recognizing the boys, and the noise level shot up as they laughed loudly and exchanged high-fives. My partner and I exchanged exasperated glances.
“Ugh, that’s annoying,” he muttered. I rubbed my temples, remarking, “It’s way too loud in here; we should head home.” The sun was still shining brightly outside, and that’s when it hit me—I’m not part of that world anymore.
My life has shifted dramatically. My attire—a conservative cardigan and sensible shoes—felt like a glaring contrast to their youthful exuberance. My partner looked equally “grown-up” in his polo and khaki shorts. We had just come from an exhibit at the Ronald Reagan Presidential Library, and yes, we had enjoyed it. To top it off, we even found and reported a grammatical error in the museum text. Talk about living on the edge!
I suppose it shouldn’t have taken a group of sprightly youngsters to make me acknowledge my gradual transition into a more settled lifestyle. But here I am, embracing my yoga pants and nightly glass of pinot grigio, like the thirty-something who feels a bit like an octogenarian. Life will continue to move forward, bringing with it more gray hairs and perhaps a few more aches. And you know what? I’m okay with that. I’m comfortable in my cardigans and wouldn’t dream of wearing one of those sheer tank tops.
At least I can still hashtag with the best of them, right? #FuddyDuddyForever
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Summary
This piece reflects on the realization of growing older and the contrast between youthful exuberance and adult responsibility. The author shares a humorous account of a child-free day that highlights the differences between their current lifestyle and that of younger generations. Embracing the changes that come with age, the author finds comfort in their new normal while reminiscing about the past.