baby, baby, baby

things are changing, so won’t you be my rock?

i’m growing up, we’re growing up

i just don’t think i’m ready

i miss being kiddish

and drawing carnivals with sidewalk chalk

and waiting for people to come ride the two dimensional ferris wheel

i miss pull-ups, and the occasional pissing of the pants

(it was okay then –

now people just look at you funny)

i miss when best friends were best friends

who shared their fun-dips

and that’s all there was to it

i miss the titanic board game

and drinking pepsi out of wine glasses

and being afraid of the dark

i miss the nineties

when listening to pop music was okay

i miss the days when i thought the scream movies were actually scary

shit, kid

i’m growing up

now i have cool new nicknames,

like hymen

(or, at least, i used to)

and a cell phone

and an ipod

and the ever helpful cookie sutra

i have mixed drinks and makeout sessions

and money to buy my own shit with

i have my license

i have my car

i have my makeup and my hair straighteners

i have gaudy plastic jewelry and push-up bras

and then

i have my doubts

my insecurities and fears

my faults and crabby days

i have experiences

i have love

i have you

oh, and thinner eyebrows

shit, kid

we’re growing up