When I was a child, I wanted to grow up quickly. I wanted to be able to go out and not have a curfew. I wanted to have more spending money. At 15, it looked like being older, of being of age, seemed like a really wonderful thing. Something to look forward to.
At 31, I wonder more than once if I’m already an adult or am I still the same child. My parents still ask me where I’m going and what time I’ll be back. I still like getting ice cream from the ice cream vendors by the Singapore River. My mom still tells me to eat my vegetables and not play with my food.
But then, there’s the proverbial marriage questions that are coming more frequently.My mother’s absolutely unsubtle mentions of a son-in-law and grandkids. My sisters’ insistence for me to move out of the house so that they can have my room.
So when do you know that you’re an adult?