Maybe getting old isn’t all that bad, now that you mention it.
There was a question on my local Facebook page asking for suggestions about local pediatricians. I suddenly realized I don’t actually know any pediatricians. Not a single one. I don’t know where to buy Pampers and I haven’t had to get up at dawn to make sure I get the kid on the bus in the middle of January when it’s 10 below zero. No more making dawn sandwiches or buying pounds of bologna, cheese, and sandwich bags.
My son is 49 and my granddaughter is 21, so I guess it shouldn’t be a big surprise, but it was. Because I don’t exactly remember when I slipped free of worrying about kid stuff. As long as Kaity was a child, it remained part of my world.
Now … it’s finished. Whatever worrying I do, it’s about my adult son and grownup granddaughter.
I’m not worried about the routes for school buses or looking for a great playground. Or wondering how many pairs of shoes the child will need this year. I am not wrapped in the world of children anymore.
Do I miss it?
Are you kidding?
I won’t be packing lunch or overseeing homework assignments. I will not have to listen to the kid lying about how he or she did the homework during study hall, trying to decide whether or not to call him or her on it, or just say “screw it” and move on.
What is more, I don’t need to update my résumé. I won’t be commuting to a distant office or planning a vacation based around a two-week vacation. Given our finances, I might not get any vacation, but I don’t really need a long vacation, though I wouldn’t mind one should one wander this way.
I will probably only set my alarm a dozen times during the coming year and that will be a dozen times too many.
Retirement. Way to go!