Stopping to admire wisteria and taking pride in your laundry? Join me in the land of grownups | Polly Hudson
I I almost ran into a wall the other day because I couldn’t take my eyes off a spectacular wisteria. Ten years ago, I doubt I would have even noticed it, or known what it was, let alone been so fascinated that I unwittingly put my life in danger. It’s almost invisible in your youth, and then suddenly, at a certain age or stage, you see it, appreciate it, and become fascinated by its impressive display.
My botanical brush with death was the moment I was certain: no matter how I feel inside, I am now undeniably an adult. This wisteria hysteria is of course not an isolated incident. There were several other definitively adult signifiers:
Gain self-esteem through washing
At some point, trying to make your whites as white as possible went from chasing a clichéd housewife in a mildly offensive ad to something that I really, madly, deeply care about. Nowadays, I lean in to hear a killer laundry tip more quickly and with more enthusiasm than I do a juicy piece of gossip. I probably could have replaced all of my family’s white clothes three times over with the amount I’ve spent so far on so-called miracle products for white people (the research continues). I’ve also been known to brag to what I wrongly believed to be interested parties about how quickly I cleaned up after returning from vacation, and I take more pride in setting a new personal best than any runner in the history of marathons.
Woman explaining
Twice in the last week I’ve had to stop myself from leaving a helpful message on a selfishly parked car. I was convinced that if I explained what the person had done wrong and how appallingly thoughtless they had been, they would learn their lesson and not do it again in the future. If it’s any consolation, I hate myself for it.
Boiling in the name of people who are not disturbed
When you ring a bus bell to indicate that you want to get off at the next stop, a sign appears saying: “Bus Stop”. That’s it: job done. But while the letters are clearly already lit, everyone else who wants this to stop is also ringing the bell. Ding! Ding! Ding! If I were a bus driver, I would have already finished with GBH; I get pretty close as a passenger. Ding! Ding! Ding!
To be capricious
A new cafe has opened in my neighborhood promising “hand-pulled noodles.” I didn’t know what it was about, but rather than being curious or interested, I was bored. Being confused by food made me grumpy. Then I said, “What next?” out loud to my son, who was watching YouTube footage of a stranger watching footage of another stranger playing a Nintendo game. And when a product speaks to me – for example, it says “I’m one of your five a day!” or “You can retrain me!” printed on the packaging, I’m not charmed by its whimsy – I think SHUT UP.
Having problematic opinions
You should be allowed to make citizen’s arrests on pedestrians who don’t thank you when you stop for them at a crosswalk. I accept that stopping is a legal obligation of the driver, but what are we animals? Masking someone who graciously allowed you to pass by their windshield is as bizarre as it is rude. I don’t expect flowers, chocolates, or the offer of a kidney if I ever need one – just a brief wave or nod. Surely that’s not too much to ask? And if that’s the case, let’s give them the chance to slowly see their mistakes, while being detained at His Majesty’s pleasure.
Taking moral positions that only hurt me
If I can’t make a reservation at a restaurant, I don’t go there. The end. Allowing diners to reserve tables is the least an establishment can do – it’s as non-negotiable as serving food or providing cutlery. I refuse to wait in line outside for hours to make a place look cool and popular. If you’re wondering if this means that there are many highly rated restaurants that I would absolutely love to go to and can’t, then yes, that’s the case. This policy needs to be banned, and sometimes it only takes one person to make a difference – although it should be noted that so far I still have a long way to go.
