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In my head, I’ve been in my early 20s since 2000.  Even though the mirror tells me otherwise, I still think of myself as being basically the same as I was when I was fresh out of college and super skinny – minus the penchant for barhopping.

But lately I’ve come to realize that maybe I need to move my mental clock up about a decade and stick with the early 30s, because I just don’t think the same way as my younger self.  When I was in my early 20s, I could identify better with teenagers than with older adults, because I was fresh out of the teen years myself. In my first couple of years at my local newspaper, when my friend would tell a story about her teenaged daughters, I almost always took the side of the daughters because I knew where they were coming from.

I don’t think I’m like that anymore.

A couple of weeks ago, I was driving with my kids on a street where the speed limit is 45 mph, but the average car is going 50.  There was a group of kids on the right side of the road, aged 15 or so, watching the road.  And as several cars approached, one of the girls ran across the street.

The thing was, she’d had plenty of time to cross well before the cars got near, but she chose to wait until they were dangerously close to bolt out into traffic, and she caused several cars to slam on their brakes.  One was so close to hitting her that it had to swerve, and there was actual smoke coming from the friction of that car’s tires on the road.  That girl could have died, and I’m not exaggerating at all.

She made it to the median and stood there laughing, while all of her dipshit friends cheered from the side of the road.

There was never an age that I would have condoned that behavior – I would always have considered that girl to be an idiot. But the reasons were different. (Although I may have understood how the presence of her peers made her act that way.)

When I was younger, I would have been angry with that girl for risking her life and her future.  How could she risk giving up the rest of her life?  Didn’t she want to grow up and have a career and a family?  Didn’t she want to see how it all turned out?

Today, while I still think those things, it goes a lot farther.  I’m angry with her for risking her life, but I’m also angry with her for not considering the family and friends who would miss her.   What if she had died?  How could she do that to her family?  HOW COULD SHE DO THAT TO HER MOTHER?

As I drove away from that crowd of cheering teenagers, I was literally shaking with anger at that child.  I wanted so badly to pull over and lecture her, as if the ranting of a 31-year-old stranger would cause her to see how foolish she was.  I was so upset that Kaylee asked me repeatedly from the back seat if I was ok.  I was upset because I wanted that girl to understand that she’s so important in someone’s life, and she shouldn’t be risking that just because her friends think it’s funny.  And I was upset because I knew she was too young to understand that.

I don’t know whether that makes me a mom or an adult, but it definitely makes me feel older.  I guess that’s ok.  My 30s aren’t so bad.