F%*& yeah, adulthood

We have a few children staying with us right now and I am reminded not how wonderful it was to be young, but rather how awesome it is to be a grown-up. Vis,

• No one hides chocolate from you, or tells you when you've had enough. We're squirreling the stuff away like it's contraband in a POW camp. We're also likely to get dive-tackled if one of the little monsters catches us eating some.
• The cat doesn't look at you like you've just shaved your head and painted a swastika on your t-shirt.
• You eat what you damn well want to eat in a restaurant. If you don't like it when it arrives, it's the food's fault, not your "mood" or the fact that you didn't get the barbie doll you wanted at K-Mart earlier.
• People don't talk about you like you're not there when you're actually sitting next to them. Or if they do, everyone else thinks they're dicks.
• No one tells you what to do unless they're giving you a crapload of money.
• Your default setting isn't "annoying".

Also, did you know chocolate is all the more sweeter when it's this illicit substance that only you're allowed to have? I mean, I wouldn't eat it in *front* of the little rugrats, but you know. Sweeter. Definitely sweeter.

(Are you there maternal instinct? It's me, Rhiannon. No? We're good for a few more years? Yessssssssss.)