Being an adult/a grown up seemed like such a faraway distant concept growing up. I remember always looking up at my mom or grandma or my aunties and wondering if I’d ever be an adult. I used to cry when mom did not wear her glasses and had makeup on, because I knew she was going to work. Going to work seemed so cool though, it seemed to just be putting on a nice blazer or suit, carrying a briefcase and driving a car somewhere for a couple hours. 

Kids have their clothes picked out by their parents, or have handmedowns. I remember wearing matching a powerpuff top and skirt, tweetybird pajamas, weirdly colored Mickey Mouse or flowery printed dresses mom got from the shops that set up near the wet markets. The day I got to choose my own Chinese New Year clothes I remember, I proudly pointed to a long turquoise flowy skirt, and a capped sleeve white blouse with flowers on it and proudly said, “Mummy mummy, this one!” Mom still paid for it of course. I was slowly becoming a grownup, I chose my own outfit! I paraded my self-picked outfit proudly that year, getting dad to take photos too. 

Kids have their parents take them places, they can’t go anywhere by themselves. I remember one of the first few times going to Orchard to shop with my schoolmates without parental supervision. It was all very exciting. I think it was someone’s birthday, we bought movie tickets, walked around and shopped and took photos in the mall bathroom mirror (this was before selfies and the front camera). We could choose the movie, what we bought, where we went to eat. Oh that independence! 

I wonder why we rush to grow up when we are younger: perhaps it seems attractive to do everything by ourselves, and make decisions and not have the way our day goes be dependent on someone else. Yet, coming back to Chicago (long story, I ended up going back home to Singapore in the end for Winter Break and it was really needed and good) about a week back, it just seemed to much easier to chuck an Annie’s mac and cheese up in the microwave for two minutes and stir than to make a full trip out for groceries, cook and clean; family dinners that seemed to get in the way at times when I wanted to hang out with friends at home were greatly missed; no more calling dad when I got really lazy or it got really late and I wanted a ride home.

Then again, I get to put on makeup and go to work, choose my own cute outfis and go out by myself.

Those are good enough tradeoffs maybe? Haha. Who am I kidding?