thimble kisses and IRAs

peter pan in the window

“second star to the right, and straight on ’til retirement!”

How does one become an adult, and when did I miss the memo?

Does the transition take place– overnight in your sleep? You just wake up one morning having busted through your footie-pajamas like the Incredible Hulk; with a savings account and a prescription to Viagra in your nightstand?

The other day a dear friend of mine – who I usually, infallibly am on the same wavelength with- told me she has an IRA.

WHAAAA?

I was flummoxed, flabbergasted and, truth be told,  kind of embarrassed for myself. I realize that having an IRA is a pretty standard and responsible practice but it had never even crossed my mind as a thing that should be put on the short list. Ever.

Granted, some of our peers have started businesses and families and gotten married– but the having-an-IRA-thing knocked me over because it was such a foreign concept. (I had to google the acronym to be perfectly honest.) And to have it ‘happen’ to someone so close to me: ‘Et tu, Brute’

e tu, brute?

“i come to bury caesar, not to help him capitalise on his existing accounts”

Kids- or those who were once kids with me-  are left right and all around wearing sweater vests, remodeling kitchens and installing  car seats into their minivans;  and I’m over here  chasing shadows, giving thimble kisses and sitting at the grown-ups table wearing a tunic made of leaves.

I’m always bitching about immature boy-men trying to date me — but maybe I’m attracting them because I’m Peter-Panning myself. There may be something to this growing up thing after all… but Im unconvinced that I’ll invest.


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