So this is how I rang in the new year

[conuly]

I put the nieces to bed by 8:30 - Jenn and 'dul are out partying.

At 11:00 they came downstairs saying they couldn't sleep. I spent 20 minutes putting them back to sleep before thinking the following:

1. This is ridiculous
2. It's almost midnight
3. I can not beLIEve how hard it is to make them sleep!
4. You know, their parents will want to sleep late tomorrow
5. Might as well let them stay up another half hour to see the ball drop

So I dragged them downstairs to my grandmother's TV, and we watched Word World until 11:57, when we watched the ball drop. I dragged them out to the porch to bang pots and pans half-heartedly (might as well do this right, right?) and then brought them back to bed.

And spent the next hour and ten minutes of my life trying to make them sleep. D'oh! I guess you could say that I really dropped the ball when it came to bedtime! (Yes, yes, I have been trying to make that joke several times all day.)

It was fun watching them be excited about the new year. Me, I found it much more interesting back when I didn't routinely stay up past midnight.... Of course, that's always the way, isn't it? When you're a child, you promise yourself that when you're a grown up you'll stay up late just because you want to and you'll buy those temporary tattoos and tubs of "slime" and choking-sized jawbreakers at the supermarket every day or even more often with your own money, and you'll eat cake whenever you please.

And then you grow up, and you can do all these things, and - cruel trick of time! - you find out that you just don't care anymore and you were a fool as a child to spurn naps in favor of being "grown up". Oh, it's disheartening to be a grown-up sometimes.

Comments

[blue-eye.livejournal.com]

And then you grow up, and you can do all these things, and - cruel trick of time! - you find out that you just don't care anymore and you were a fool as a child to spurn naps in favor of being "grown up". Oh, it's disheartening to be a grown-up sometimes.

How true! And worded so very well...

[conuly]

That's because I'm brilliant.

[elenbarathi.livejournal.com]

Ha, when you're a grown-up you can get real tattoos if you want them. You can drive to the supermarket in the middle of the night and buy tiramisu, then go park somewhere scenic and eat the whole thing in the car while listening to your CDs. LOL, and not to put too fine a point on it, but people who are old enough to have sex no longer need to buy choking-size jawbreakers and tubs of 'slime'.

[conuly]

LOL, and not to put too fine a point on it, but people who are old enough to have sex no longer need to buy choking-size jawbreakers and tubs of 'slime'.

I'm dying here! *laughs*

And real tattoos are inferior to fake ones because you're stuck with them. Plus, they don't come six for a dollar at the supermarket. Not reputable tattoos, anyway.

[elenbarathi.livejournal.com]

Ah no; real tats are superior to fake tats because they're forever; they never get all worn away and patchy with dirt till you have to scrub them off with baby oil.

Anyway, just because one has real tats, doesn't mean one can't go buy a bunch of fake ones too - heck, order the fancy ones (http://www.google.com/search?hl=en&q=temporary+tattoos&btnG=Search&aq=f&oq=&aqi=g3g-c3g1g-c2) online with a credit card; none of this begging for quarters for the pitiful selection in the machine at Safeway. And they can go in more interesting places, without Mom finding out and making disapproving remarks, and be admired by more interesting people.

The cake is what really makes growing up worth while, though. The joys of toys may pall; staying up late may become moot because one just dozes off in the chair; even sex may turn into more trouble than it's worth... but the pleasure of being able to eat dessert first (or even dessert only, if one so chooses) is a pleasure that endures.

[conuly]

I'd mention that, being an adult, it's also not as much fun to ride the quarter-rides at stores, but I'm worried about what you might say to that :P

[leora.livejournal.com]

I think it was in my teens that I managed to convince my parents to let me order dessert first. I made a good case for it. The thing is, I didn't usually care about dessert options, but sometimes I really wanted one. But I'd usually eat too much of my dinner and leave no room for dessert. Since my dessert would be no bigger for me eating it first than what I could have, it ensured that I would get to have dessert at all. And so I began to eat my dessert first sometimes.

I still regularly check the supermarket for what toys they have in the machines, but they rarely have good ones. I will buy them if they have something good and I have quarters. And when I was in college, I would periodically treat myself to a cake from the bakery just because I could. But I eat a lot less junk food than I used to as I've learned more about what is in it.

As a kid, I was always allowed to stay up to just past midnight on New Year's Eve, but it took me many years until I actually managed to stay up for the year change.