Writing Club Wednesdays | Not a Kid Anymore

Prompt: The moment you knew you were no longer a child.

I thought I wasn't a kid anymore when I could finally ride my bike.
But then, I asked my mom for a dollar so I could ride my bike to the Shave Ice Shack. Still a kid.

I thought I wasn't a kid anymore when I finally finished every single Nancy Drew book.
But then, I had to ask my mom to drive me to the library for something new. Still a kid.

I thought I wasn't a kid anymore when I got my driver's license.
But then, I got a speeding ticket the same day and came home and cried. Still a kid.

I thought I wasn't a kid anymore after my first kiss.
But then, I came home and cried about that too. Still a kid.

I thought I wasn't a kid anymore when I moved out of the house.
But then, I called my parents every day from campus. Every day with laundry questions, cooking questions, dating questions, questions about questions...never more of a kid.

I thought I wasn't a kid anymore when I moved out of the country.
But then, I got lost. A lot. And never felt smaller, but never felt more eager. Still a kid.

I thought I wasn't a kid anymore when I graduated college.
But then, I went into the world and never felt smaller, again. Still, a kid.

I thought I wasn't a kid anymore when I got married.
But then, we looked at each other. Two kids. In love. But, two kids.

I thought I'd stop being a kid. I thought it a lot of times, and expected it to happen after many made up deadlines.

But then, I get to where I think that moment is and I still just feel like...me.

Does everyone still feel like a kid?

The fact that I still own my baby blanket doesn't help. But it does help me sleep.