As a small fry I thought my parents were a bunch of know-it-alls. In a good way. I was sure they knew what to do about anything whatsoever and that their intellect was profound and limitless. I was impressed.

And when it came to financial mumbo jumbo? They understood with complete clarity. They were grownups. They acted responsibly. They behaved like serious MATURE people and I was in awe of these people.

That was until I hit the teenage years. And then I found myself in a quandary, as me-myself-and-I had become the know-it-ALL (and not in a good way… smart aleck). So with a hefty degree of smugness I challenged those over-the-hill grownups. Often.

For instance, when I confidently insisted that “The Beaver’” (from Leave it to Beaver ) had sadly died in Vietnam – my dad, with equal the confidence, insisted that “no he hadn’t”; his counter-argument being that it was just a rumor. A RUMOR?? Not good enough. Parents think they know everything… so annoying! Besides, my best friend fully corroborated my story. Yet this difference of opinion ‘conversation’ went on for a long time; until I saw a photo, years after the purported demise, showing “The Beav” wholly alive. Not dead. Oopsie. My sincerest apologies to friends and family of Jerry Mathers. And, well my dad.

Moving forward and into my 20’s, 30’s, 40’s, etc., I was once again thoroughly impressed with those parents of mine. And rightly so. They really did know a thing or two… or an inordinate amount. They had been right about so many things. So many things. And as I began to feel a lot less all-knowing, I looked forward, with certainty, to my own accumulation of vast knowledge and worldliness. I would be oh so mature and terribly sophisticated… I would someday know it all too!

Now my children, who have been through the known-it-all stage (“what goes around, comes around”)  are recognizing that I often knew-it-all.

But did I?

Furthermore, although quite present at meetings about financial mumbo jumbo, I continue to find myself staring at moving lips that seem to be saying, “blah-blah-blah–BLAH-BLAH–blah-blah-BLAH”. What are they trying to tell me???!?

How did my parents know all this stuff? And without Google at their beck and call?

Since I am clearly not in the same league as my parental wisenheimers, I am focusing in on my exemplary level of maturity in how I conduct myself. And guess what I discovered? My so-called exemplary level of maturity has taken a swift, deep nosedive. Like radically gone down the toilet. BUT I HAVE DECIDED TO JUST GO WITH IT. Hell, where does it say I must act my age? No such law exists. And without legal precedent, I’m not about to mind my p’s and q’s. NOR WILL I ALWAYS BE ON MY BEST BEHAVIOR.

And thank god I have friends (one in particular… and you know who you are!) who feel the same way. YAY! Our children tend to gape at us in disbelief and our husbands tolerate our nonsense. We drop to the floor doubled over in laughter… cause we think we are soooooo funny. Our back and forth texts quickly escalate into silliness: causing us to call one another in hysterics. Again… cause we think we are soooooo funny. Immature? YEP! But people – we are FUN. AND I SEE NO REASON WHATSOEVER TO ACT OUR AGE.

immature: a word boring people use to describe fun people

I am well aware that I don’t, and could never, know the answer to everything. However, I still think my folks knew the whole ball of wax. And yes I wish I had better command over what seems to go-in-one-ear-and-out-the-other. But I tune into my children and garner new insights and often come to new conclusions. They really know some compelling things. And that’s of great interest to me! Google has taught them well. THEY REALLY KNOW SOME IMPORTANT STUFF!

In conclusion, I accept my deficiencies in the all-knowing department. I am open to the possibility of retaining new info. But, without question, I see no reason to act my age, not my shoe size.  EVER.