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Musings

Once upon a time I thought becoming older and more mature was like the New Year's Eve cartoons, or maybe a starship captain's chair, where the More Mature Me would come into my head and say "there, there, let me handle this now" and the Less Mature Me would say "oh thank you!" and they'd hug or shake hands and the Less Mature Me would disappear in a poof of white (or black) smoke and the More Mature Me would be in charge till the Even More Mature Me came along.

But it's not like that. They're all stuck in there together, forever it looks like. The Child sobs over a slight or whines for a toy, and the Mother tries to explain and soothe it, but the Teenager gets frustrated and slaps the kid, and the Child wails, which makes the Professional roll her eyes and so the kid kicks her in the shin but she grits her teeth and pretends it didn't hurt, while the Mother sends the Child to a time-out and then worries if she was too harsh, and the Teenager sulks in the corner with her headphones and a book, wishing the others would go away. But they don't go away, and it just gets more and more crowded and sometimes very noisy.

Comments

( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
ebourland
Feb. 18th, 2010 11:40 pm (UTC)
Very well put.
jenwrites
Feb. 19th, 2010 03:27 am (UTC)
I'm glad I'm not the only one with a crowded head!
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )