Growing Up or Growing Older?

I don't remember a time when I wasn't concerned with getting older.

Kindergarten: Fifth-graders? Whoa, there. Practically adults. Okay, time to go back to playing with cardboard blocks.

Third grade: I'm getting too old for baby games now. *retrieves Tamagotchi* But those old people [namely, fourth-graders] never look like they're having any fun.

Fifth grade: *convulses with fear for middle school* What if I become...a TEENAGER?

Seventh grade: Ew, boys. *retreats to book*

Eighth grade: Eh, boys. Ew. HIGH SCHOOL! Gross. Oh, geez, what if I have no social life? What if I have no friends? What if people think I'm stupid? What if I don't get into an Ivy League? Oh, no! High school! Boys! Drama! *runs away screaming*

Age is wisdom, beauty, experience, knowledge, omniscience--all that nonsense that old people use to console themselves when they're feeling particularly fat/wrinkly/obsolete.

But that, obviously, is a choice.

Why feel fat when you can feel happy?

Why feel wrinkly when you can feel joyful?

Why feel obsolete when you can feel young?

Because of my back. Because of my spouse. Because of my arthritis in both knees. Because of my job. Because of my life. Because of my friends. Because I have absolutely NO PURPOSE in living.

No.

It's like this, see:

Growing older is mandatory.

Growing up is optional.