Kids playing at adulthood

"You did things to me."

"Yeah?"

"You never satisfied me and you did things to me that I don't think I'll ever be able to undo."

"You're not making any goddamned sense."

"You can't do that. No. Not anymore, you can't do that anymore."

Tag. You're frozen.

We're not playing.

You're just saying that cuz you got tagged.

Nuh uh!

Fine.

I want to play Tag.

You can't, we're playing Adulthood.

Aww.

"You can't do that to me this time. Now there's nothing left to lose, so I won't let you do that."

I guess I don't love you a lot.

Stop it. You're not playing it right.

I am!

No! Do it right!

No, I'm done playing Adulthood, I want to play Freeze Tag.

"This is just like you!"

"That's all you ever say. That's all you ever say, and you know why? Because it kills you--I mean, absolutely slays you--that you spent all this time with me and you still don't have the first idea what I'm going to do. Or what drives me, or what I love. I'm a goddamn mystery to you, because I never let you get close. And when you go home after we're done here and cry, that's what you'll be crying about. That you gave it your all and I never let you get close to anything."

Yes. That's how you play.

_

"Kids are so stupid these days."

"Were we that stupid when we were kids?"

"No way, man. No way. You know my kid's absolute favorite toy in the world?"

"My kid plays with his little GI Joes. They're dolls. I don't like it."

"Naw. My kid plays with this little vacuum. She pushes it around the carpet and pretends she's vacuuming and these little colored plastic balls or beads or something pop around under the little plastic bubble and she gets a kick out of it."

"Give her the real vacuum, let her do something useful. I wish my kid was cleaning up instead of playing with those goddamn dolls all day."

"Nah, she's too small for the real vacuum. And she hates the noise."

"Hates the noise! Kids sure are stupid."

"You know what the worst part is? She pushes her little goddamned toy vacuum cleaner across the rug and she'll play with it for hours. But yesterday she stopped and just stared at this one piece of dirt or whatever it was on the floor with this frown on her face, like she can't figure out why she isn't picking it up. Like she wants so goddamned bad to pick up that one piece of dirt and it wouldn't come out of the carpet and that meant she was a failure at everything or something like that."

"Kids are weird."

"So I'm watching her and she picks up her little toy vacuum and throws it at the wall, nearly puts a hole in the drywall."

"Holy shit!"

"Yeah, she really whipped it. Never knew she was so strong. So she hurls it at the wall and she just stands there and cries and cries and cries."

"So what did you do?"

"Hell if I knew what to do. I sent her to her room for throwing the thing."

"You gotta discipline these kids. Our parents knew how to discipline."

"Kids have it so easy these days. And they're so goddamn dumb."

_

Daddy, what do adults talk about?

"I don't know."

You do too.

"Normal stuff, I guess."

Like TV?

"Yeah, TV sometimes. And sports, and money."

What do you say about money?

"There's not enough of it, mostly. And how to get more of it."

How do you get more of it?

"I don't know. A healthy mix of low-risk high-yield bonds and--I don't know, I do what my broker tells me."

What's a broker.

"I don't know, really."

Do you satisfy Mommy?

"What? Shut up, don't ask questions like that."

Why?

"I don't know. What did you say?"

I said do you satisfy Mommy.

"Hell if I know. Ask her."

_

"Where have you been?"

I got ten minutes off recess cuz I threw a piece of chalk.

No, we're playing.

Aw, I don't want to play now.

We're playing.

Aww.

"Where have you been?"

"Not here."

"Har har."

"Har."

"Are you going to give me an answer?"

"I guess I'm just not sure why I should."

"You wouldn't. You wouldn't because you're immature."

This is boring.

That's cuz you won't play it the right way!

You know why I threw that chalk today? Because of this. This--this game. This thing you've trapped me in--this madness. I had to throw the chalk because that's the only way I saw out. Because I can feel myself being pulled in by it, and God, it's awful. It's unnatural. It's exhausting. I feel like I'm running around putting out a hundred fires, and the whole time all I can think is that maybe I should just let them go, you know? Because I don't know what I'm extinguishing, you know? And, I don't know, because maybe the fire is natural and good and warm, or maybe it's deadly and that's why I want to let it burn--so it annihilates me and everything, all this--growth. The chalk--that's all I had. It was pointless and it was immature and it achieved nothing and it was all I had. And that's the very reason I'd do it again, because I feel compelled to fight for that.

You're confusing me.

"Yeah."

_

"I remember when I was eighteen and I got my first car."

"Those were the days, weren't they?"

"God, we had fun."

"We knew how to have fun back then."

"One day me and my brother tricked up the exhaust so it would shoot this little blue flame out the pipe."

"Aw, man."

"We spent that hole Saturday with the car on a lift and we took turns just revving the engine so we could see the flame. For hours, we did this. Just staring into the exhaust pipe, looking at the little blue flame. All goddamn day, no exaggeration."

"Those were the days. I remember being so happy when I was eighteen."

"But when we were eighteen, we were miserable."

"That's because we were stupid. We were so goddamn stupid."

"Amen to that."

_

"You've changed."

"No shit I've changed. Why the fucking hell do you think I've fucking changed."

"Stop shouting."

Sorry.

No, we're playing.

Oh, OK.

"Stop shouting, you're making me nervous. You're making me shake."

"So what! So what if I am, why should that matter to me?"

Let's go!

We're playing Adulthood.

You're blocking the slide!

This isn't a slide! It's a balcony.

It's a slide and the rest of us want to slide, so if you're not going to go down, make way for the rest of us!

We're paying a lot of money for this studio apartment with a balcony that the sun hits in the morning and you poops aren't going to make us slide down it.

Scaredy cats! Scaredy cats!

Shut up! Are not!

Let's just go.

OK.

"It used to matter to you. I used to matter, and then you got so cold to me, and it hurts me, and you don't even realize it. Or worse, you do and you keep hurting anyway."

"So what do you want me to do, huh? You think I don't pray to God every night to make me a better person? I've tried, OK? Jesus I've tried."

"You've tried?"

"Yes. Yes."

"But you're not better."

"No, I'm not."

"That old you is still there inside. Just bring him back. Not just for me, not for me at all, even. You need to save yourself."

They're blocking the slide.

Ssh.

They're not saying anything.

What's he looking at?

"You hear me? You need to save yourself."

It's too late for me.