As I paid for a movie ticket a few months ago, the twenty-something ticket taker asked, "Are you an adult?"
My first thought was that I have been an adult for many years, but before I opened my mouth, I realized she was asking if I am an adult or a senior. Senior: over 55, over 60, over 62, over 65. The definition is as fluid as the dreams of those who fit the demographic. The gray in my hair is real. So are the aches in my joints. But in my head I'm still 13 and waiting to see who I'll be when I grow up. My emotional transition cannot see the physical one.