And you say I need to grow up!

No matter the amount of labor we put in, parents will never treat us our age. Twenty one and twelve are mere figures with exchanged digits for them. You can never live your age with them.

To be pampered like a twelve year old kid, feels good, make you feel requisite, but, to be treated like one, instead of a grown adolescent is like depriving you of your puberty rights. There have been many incidents in my life when I desperately wanted to be treated like a teen ager, but was sacked down with labels like kid, tot, kiddo and various others which have doubtful existence.

Analyzing the dinner I had with my family the other day:

•        I chose a black knee length dress for the outing, what if I clubbed Dexter printed pullover with it.  I admit the dress had stains on it by the time we finished the dinner. Nobody’s perfect isn't it?
•         I found myself ordering salad for starter, instead of the customary Choc chips. So what if I bought myself two cones of it and licked the cup to its last bit.
•       I patiently waited for my food. My patience was subjected to fierce assessment. I maintained my calm, what if I smeared at the waiter during the serve. Did he not deserve it?
•          I offered being served last in spite of the cuisines of my choice. I accept throwing bizarre, scary expressions, until not served. I was hungry, no one noticed it. I swear.
•          Music with food was my suggestion, so what if it was loud, or more aptly, deafening. Music is music, we can’t and we should not categorize it. It was good anyways.
•          I swear I understood the humor around our table. I didn't respond as I was busy fishing out unwanted things from my plate. That ate my attention.
•         I selected the particular restaurant as it read to be a family dining place, what if it had an amusement park organized next to it. It was a coincidence, I wasn't aware of it.
•         I respected the populace around, tried to speak softly, the way ladies do. But wasn't the place crowded enough? Screams were the only option left to be paid attention too.
•         I didn't intend to scream on meeting my friend there, it was a natural reaction. She would have told me of her presence there!
•         I didn't fight with my brothers for a window seat during the drive, they offered me that place. Is it my fault that they fear my temper when told to sit between them, sandwiched!?
•          Most importantly, I didn't scrounged Dad’s phone to play with. I used my own. Didn’t I revere his privacy?
• 
  

     Despite these efforts I was labeled a kid. I intend to act my age, but the child in me is in there since nineteen years. The newly grown adult will require some time to come on the surface. This does not mean that I am still a kid.

I do understand the happenings around me, if I don’t react that either reflect my ignorance or sluggishness to post a reaction. I am aware of my errands; my failure to fulfill them reflects my incompetence not a child in me. I am even not restricted to enter a hall which displays adult rated films. but are they the mandatory certifications I need to prove my age? NO!
After all we don’t grow by the years we live but by the thoughts we develop in those years.