BECKY RICKARD: STICK IT IN THE FRIDGE

Simon says, "Grow up." Toys-R-Us says, "I don't want to grow up." Steeler's Wheel says, "Here I am stuck in the middle with you."

I can't tell you how many times I've been told to act my age or to stop being an old poop. When I act like a child, I'm told to grow up. When I act like an adult, I'm told to loosen up. Will somebody please tell me who's right!

Like most adults, I miss being a kid. Remember the days of playing kickball in the street, not caring if your socks matched and watching cartoons on Saturday mornings until your eyes were blurry? Oh, how I wish I could drop an anvil on my student loan officer's head like Wiley Coyote does to the Roadrunner.

When I was a kid, I didn't have a care in the world. My biggest concern was if I was going to play cops and robbers or Barbies. Staying up past bedtime was a privilege, not a necessity. Groundings occurred because I got into trouble, not because I had a term paper due the next week.

I never worried about money when I was a kid. I thought my parents had jobs because they knew how much I liked my baby-sitters. Of course, I also thought that my parents were close, personal friends with the Tooth Ferry, Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny.

When I was a tyke, I thought keeping my room clean was a huge responsibility. I never understood why I had to make my bed every morning when I was going to mess it up that same night. (Actually, I still don't understand that concept.) I thought it was funny when my bath towels would grow that fuzzy green stuff on them. I believed baths were a form of torture, not pleasure.

On the flip side, there are many things I enjoy about being an adult. I love the fact that the car I drive is MINE. It excites me to remember my next oil change. Even though I've been driving for over seven years, I still smile when I see the key ring with my initials and my keys on it.

It never ceases to amaze me how intelligent adults are. It is soothing to know that when I use words like discombobulated and ambidextrous, other adults know that I am a confused and fluttered person who can write with both hands.

What I like most about being an adult is reading big books with no pictures. Of course, understanding the jokes in sitcoms and Disney movies is equally rewarding. I revel in knowing that I get to choose who the next president, senator and congressperson will be. So, what's the problem here?

I want to be a kid and an adult. I don't want people telling me that I'm trying to act too old when I order a bottle of Chardonnay at a restaurant. I'm tired of people telling me to quit calling men boys and women girls.

I believe that it is normal for adults to collect Star Wars figures. Adults should admit that food fights are fun at any age. Jumping in puddles should be part of behavioral therapy when an adult goes to see a shrink.

I want to be able to eat my Frosted Flakes wherever I choose.

I dream of the day when adults everywhere allow themselves to turn their radios up and sing at the top of their lungs while driving home in rush hour.

On the other hand, adults should know that hitting other people is wrong. Adults need to learn not to throw tantrums every time they don't get their way. Adults should know that sticks and stones may break their bones but words can hurt worse.

So the next time my socks don't match or I sing at the top of my lungs while driving in rush hour, just remember that I, too, am stuck in the middle with you.