As a child, I had wanted desperately to be an adult. Every time I had a silly fight with someone, every time I was witness and victim to petty jealousy, every time somebody was stupidly possessive, every time somebody was unnecessarily mean and every time someone purposely made me cry, I would ask my parents, “Why can’t so-and-so behave like an adult?” I wished that we would all be grown-up and that every one would behave ‘maturely’. My parents had always smiled a secret smile, a smile that was pacifying and indulgent.
Now I know. We never do grow up. Do we?