Ways In Which I Am Totally An Adult

Most days I'm amazed that I've made it as far as I have. Meaning, I'm amazed I'm still alive AND that my age reflects a number most people relate to "adulthood". Because there are days (let's not mind the percentage here) that I eat cookies for breakfast, or stay up until the wee hours of the morning watching my favorite tv show, or whine about not getting my way that would make my membership in the Adult Club seem invalid. But there are some ways I feel like I can proudly hold up my Club membership card and buy liquor and cigarettes at will…

I drink coffee. And not something that looks like this*: No, regularly, I must consume at least one cup greater or equal to 10 ounces of this:
I pay taxes. It's generally super lame and depressing, but filling out the myriad little boxes on those damn forms makes me feel like I've earned my keep (even if someone is taking it away).
I have Opinions… on Things… of Great Importance. Life, death, sex, religion, and politics? I THINK about all of those. I mean, I still think about what kind of candy I'd like to get at the check-out when I go to the grocery store in three days and how funny Calvin & Hobbes is, but I do that slightly less now that there's Single Payer Health Care and Philosophies to ponder.
I have a hairstylist. I heard legendary tales of people following their hairstylists to the ends of the earth, or even worse, THE OUTER RING SUBURBS. Sagas involving phone books and multiple phone calls and mistaken identities and salon espionage. Since there were more than a few years when I cut and dyed my own hair, I thought these stories were myth, or even unnecessary, BUT NOW I UNDERSTAND.
I pay my bills. This would mean I was an adult for a couple years post-high school and then regressed in my 20s, but damn it feels good to be a gangsta… and make it rain… on the electric company.
I have children. Therefore I have no fear. Adults from my childhood were not afraid of thunderstorms, or ghosts, or big bugs, or the basement, or of really deep lakes where you can't see the bottom and you know muskies live in, or ALL OF THE OTHER REALLY SCARY STUFF THAT EXISTS. So I do my best impersonation of an adult (which I think is what we are all doing anyway) and squash the bug, make up fun stories about where thunder comes from, walk slowly up the basement stairs [if there are other people present], talk about how ghosts are totally made up, and jump in really deep, muskie-infested lakes without screaming. For the children.