“So, Rebekah, what are you doing later?” Daniel asks me.
The clock on my phone reads 9:45pm. I squint at Daniel like he’s lost his mind. “What do you mean later?”
I blink three times, slowly. I planned on scurrying home and brewing a fresh mug of chamomile. I planned on stretching out the tendonitis in my wrists and wishing the dog sweet dreams. I planned on tidying my shoes and checking the status of my teeth. I planned on saying my prayers.
This was about the point I realized: I am a 22-year-old grandma.
I’ve always been an old soul. I knew it when my friends squealed over a game of tag and I would slump and sigh and say, “can’t we just sit and talk?”
They tease me, to this day.
Growing up, I felt bad. I was forever the voice of reason, the stick in the mud. I was no fun. I viewed TP-ing a cute boy’s house as a desperate cry for attention. I thought pranks were mean. Running was exhausting, so why play tag? Hide-and-go-seek was a terrible game of how long can you hide until your bladder explodes–last one to the bathroom is the winner!
No one taught me to be this way.
People ask me if I’ve changed since middle school. I haven’t grown since middle school—in any way.
I look exactly the same. Though, I’m happy to report my voice has deepened.
Instead, I’ve begun to age into my personality.
I’m no longer a stick in the mud, I’m the responsible one.
I have a cabinet fully stalked with tea and hot chocolate. I’m always ready for a nice long chat.
I consider it my duty to pass on my eternal wisdom, whether people want to hear it or not.
I begin monotonous, excruciatingly never-ending conversations with phrases like back in my day—or—kids these days.
Yes, I admit to sometimes getting annoyed when my peers don’t straighten up, be smart, and act respectful! For PETE’S SAKE. You kids are aging me.
I get excited over naps, clipping my toenails, TV shows, and sales on coffee creamer. When I’m feeling crazy, I wear fuzzy novelty socks (and the socks totally match the nearest holiday). Solitaire is my jam.
I’m terrified of falling. I judge you silently behind my monocle. I don’t stay out late. I don’t drink. And I will pound you if you eat the last strawberry yogurt in the fridge without “putting it on the list.”
I think I’m a fun person because I watch all the kid movies as soon as they hit the theater, and I’m witty. I never say no to frozen yogurt after church on Sundays. My goal is to own one cardigan in every color and then I will never be cold. I know how to knit.
I am a grandma.
Now on Snapchat! RebekahKoontz