Things I Didn't Know Were Part of Being an Adult 🤦‍♀️😂

When I was a kid, I thought being an adult meant freedom.

Nobody tells you that it mostly means wondering where all your money went and getting irrationally excited when toilet paper is on sale. 🤣

Seriously...

Why didn't anybody prepare us?

We had health class.

Driver's Ed.

Somebody even taught us algebra that I've used approximately three times.

But nobody covered the important stuff.

Like...

How you eventually develop a favorite burner on the stove.

Don't act like you don't know exactly which one I'm talking about.

The other three technically work...

But they're not your burner.

🤣

Or how you'll eventually have a favorite grocery cart.

You know the one.

It rolls straight.

It doesn't squeak.

One wheel isn't trying to make a run for the parking lot.

When you find a good cart...

You protect it.

😂

Nobody warned me I'd get offended when somebody uses my good scissors.

You know exactly which scissors I'm talking about.

The ones that cut beautifully...

Until somebody decides they're perfect for opening bags of chicken feed, cutting wire, opening Amazon boxes, trimming zip ties, or whatever other nonsense they could've found literally any other scissors for. 🤦‍♀️

And speaking of Amazon...

Nobody told me I'd get this excited over a package.

Twenty-year-old me:

"Whatever. It'll get here when it gets here."

Forty-something me:

"Out for delivery!!!" 🎉

Then I become the neighborhood watch.

Every truck that goes by gets my attention.

Was that him?

Nope...

UPS.

False alarm.

🤣

Nobody warned me I'd check the weather before I left the house.

Not because I care what my hair looks like.

Because I need to know if I have to wear a hoodie...

Turn the heat on...

Or if Mother Nature is going through another one of her emotional support breakdowns.

🤣

And why...

WHY...

Do I have a favorite spatula?

Not just a favorite.

One that nobody else is allowed to use.

Because somehow they always scrape it on the cast iron skillet like they're trying to sand it down.

Use another one.

There are fourteen in the drawer.

Leave Bertha alone.

Yes...

My favorite spatula has a name.

Don't judge me.

😂

Nobody mentioned that one day I'd stand in the kitchen...

Holding my phone...

Wondering where my phone is.

Or that I'd walk into a room with a mission...

Only to completely forget why I was there.

Then I'd walk back to where I started...

Remember...

Turn around...

Walk back...

Forget again.

At this point, I don't think I'm forgetful.

I think my brain is just buffering. 🤣

And can we please talk about how exciting it is when plans get canceled?

Teenage me would've cried.

Adult me?

"Aww... they canceled?"

Looks at pajamas.

"Well... I guess everything happens for a reason." 😂

Nobody warned me that I'd become personally invested in birds outside my window.

"That cardinal's back!"

"Ohhh... the hummingbirds are here!"

"Look! A bluebird!"

Who even am I?!

I used to know the names of celebrities.

Now I know the names of birds.

🤣

The craziest part?

I actually like being an adult.

Sure...

My back occasionally files complaints.

I make noises when I stand up.

And I get weirdly excited over a new kitchen gadget.

But I've also learned to laugh more.

Stress less.

Say no without feeling guilty.

And appreciate the little things.

Even if one of those little things is finding the good grocery cart.

So maybe adulthood isn't exactly what I imagined...

But honestly?

It's not half bad.

Especially if I've got my favorite burner, my favorite spatula, and nobody has touched my good scissors. 🤣✂️

So tell me, bestie...

What's one weird thing nobody warned you would happen when you became an adult?

I have a feeling we're about to make a whole list of things they definitely should've covered in school. 😂💕☕ (See? We learned algebra... but not this!)