I got caught smoking yesterday. This type of thing should only happen when you are 12 and are caught leaning out of the bedroom window puffing on a stolen fag because as you mask a coughing fit you drop your lit end out the window and it lands within your mum's high hair. This type of thing doesn't happen when you are 23 and have been smoking on/off since your were 15. Or it shouldn't. But it did. I smoked from the years of 15-19 and gave up for 3 years and since then I have been smoking 'temporarily'. And yesterday I got caught for the first time. And all because a tabby hadn't flushed right when I tried to discard the evidence. Damn new plumbing system. I never thought to tell my parents I was indulging in the lung cancer sport because unless you get caught when too young to care what your parents think then there is never a good time to drop it into conversation. "hey ma, I've been lecturing you for years on not smoking and getting you upset in the process, do you mind if I spark up and share a fag with you?" I expected the lectures of 'you've seen what smoking does to me and your dad, you should know better' but all I got was, 'hey feel free to light up in the house anytime but watch you don't set anything alight.' She thought it was hilarious watching me go penis pink and trying to rationalise my smoking habits to her. And then it happened. The she imparted this mum wisdom upon me which sent me into full scale shock. She said 'well, you are
an adult after all. You are
23.' Fuck. Am I really a grown up? If my mum thinks I am it must be correct. Parents are always banging on about been grown up and telling you that you need to do this so for my mum to turn around and tell me what I have been fearing for all eternity was pretty scary. Mum's know everything so I really must be a grown up. At age 23 I thought I was still classed as a kid. I wanted to be classed as a kid until I was old enough to appreciate wine (which will probably never happen) and watch the news without gawping at the newsreader. I thought by the time I realised I actually was a grown up that I would be watching Countdown with my incontinence pants on while sucking on my false teeth and by that time I would have regressed back to being a kid, needing help to the toilet and only being able to eat mushy food so I thought I would really miss out on the part of actually being classed as a 'grown up'. My mum has shattered all my lillusions with a giggle and a smirk. I think I must go and steal sweets and eat sand and play doctors and nurses again to prove my lack of grown- up- ness. Oh parents can be so cruel.