A married tradition that Mark and I have is to take a Thanksgiving picture. This year we went all out and sent snail mail Thanksgiving cards with our creation on them.
We spent a few nights discussing what we’d do for the card. Dress the cats and dog up as pilgrims and indians? Paint a cornucopia on my belly? Screw the whole thing and pretend the tradition didn’t exist (Mark’s suggestion, obviously)?
It didn’t take long to realize that construction paper and marshmallows (in honor of our own little Marshmallow) would be the best route since neither of us felt like animal wrangling all evening.
It was a boring Wednesday evening as I sat on our couch cutting out teepees and pilgrim hats, lamenting the fact that scotch tape did not stick very well to marshmallows, when I was struck with this thought…
I’m a grown up now.
And I don’t mean a boring grown up who pays taxes and knows the difference between term and whole life insurance (thank you, Omari).
No, I was a grown up in the way that I now had everything at my disposal to make any of my dreams or thoughts come to life. I mean, I was sitting in the middle of scraps of construction paper, rolling mini marshmallows around in cocoa powder and eating s’mores WAY past my bedtime all because Mark and I had visions of marshmallows and construction paper dancing in our heads. And I could make that vision come true because I AM A GROWNUP. With my own car and everything!
And at that moment I felt alive.