All the time I was a kid,
I wanted to be grown.
I wanted to be bigger
And to do things on my own.

Now that I’m an adult
I am grown enough to see,
That being that bit bigger
Isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

There’s no more pocket money
As I’ve got a job instead,
But every day there’s bills to pay 
To ensure I’m warm, watered and fed.

I’m loving living by myself
Being free to do as I please.
No-one can tell me “There’s no dessert
Unless you finish your peas!”

I’m making adult purchases,
Like spare bulbs for my lamp.
And don’t even get me started on
The status of my plant…

(It’s dead) but hey, I bought one!
And for months it looked just fine.
I replaced it with a faux thing
That’s much easier to keep in line.

The other day I cleaned my bin,
Which might not sound that hard,
But I followed a YouTube tutorial 
And I even used bicarb!

At school I was often labelled a “square”.
Maybe I could be called a high-flyer…
So why did it take me over a year
To function my tumble dryer?

I’d mastered Pythagoras’ theorem,
And knew about poetic metre,
Yet still I didn’t have a clue
How to fix my hot water heater.

Still, while I may not currently be
An image of adult perfection, 
One grown-up thing I have achieved?

An extensive Tupperware collection.

One thought on “Adulting

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