What they don’t tell you

“As a teenager you are at the last stage in your life when you will be happy to hear that the phone is for you.”  ~Fran Lebowitz

I’m eight and my mother denies me the single joy of a McDonald’s cheeseburger. I ask why and she gives me a succinct, “Because I said so”. I huff and tell her that when I grow up I am going to eat cheeseburgers everyday. And for dessert strawberry ice cream with crushed Oreos on top. I’ll drive everywhere and never shower or wash my face. No one will be able to turn the lights on early in the morning and greet me with a,  “Rise and shine!” and force me to go to school. I’ll stay in bed all day but eventually I will get married and have babies. When I’m 24 years old. No matter because my kids will think I’m a rock star because I will never yell or make them get up in the morning. My kids will get milkshakes for breakfast and we’ll all watch The Real World all day long. We will sit close to the television and experience superfluous nudity courtesy of MTV. Speaking of, MTV will always play music videos. The raunchy kind that I’m not allowed to watch. But that’s ok because when I grow up I’ll be able to watch as many scantily clad people as I’d like.

I hate to break it to you but that’s not how it happened. No one tells you that if you decide to eat Big Macs everyday for a week, you probably won’t shit for a week either. No one tells you that seven Oreos a day will make your ass fat. Milkshakes will give you something better than child-birthing hips, try heifer-hips. No one says that if you don’t wash your face for days, Exxon will will be able to build an oil derrick on your T-zone. Technically no one can physically force you to rise each morning. And God help the person who suggests shining. Despite that technicality, no one tells you of the gut wrenching, stomach churning,  I need a handful of klonopin and a shot of Jack, type guilt that you will be riddled with if you decide not to get up in the morning. No one tells you that you’ll sometimes have to give up your vacations, make tough choices and deal with people you really can’t stand without that nice feeling of knowing that (for you) college somewhere far far away is coming up (the only proper place for them is a penitentiary). No one tells you that you just have to deal. That you’ll have to suck it up and move on.

And sad to say, MTV won’t play music forever. And not only will you not want to see anyone else naked but you sure as hell won’t want to see yourself naked (see also: Oreos, consumption of). You won’t sit right next to the television because you’ll probably go blind. Hell, you probably won’t even watch TV. You’ll ignore what’s going on out there and be all “Who is Justin Beiber?!” and you really won’t care.

They won’t tell you that 24 isn’t old. Neither is 26. They won’t tell you that your plan is bullshit and very few things will go accordingly.

They’ll tell you that you shouldn’t be in a hurry to grow up. They’ll tell you to go forth and enjoy this spring day. Enjoy lounging and mandatory naps and someone telling you to just go to bed now. They’ll tell you to enjoy someone else doing the cooking and the cleaning and the laundry and the motherfucking bill paying. They will tell you all of these things. One day you’ll grow up and finally heed their words. You’ll wish you had listened. You will make a mental note to share this secret with the world because somewhere, out there is another eight year old who won’t listen.  They will tell you that someday you’ll learn and you will. Trust me you will.