STRANGER THAN FICTION: JOYS OF ADULTHOOD OUTWEIGH PAINS, JUST BARELY

Nothing like swimming when you've just eaten. Trust me, you won't drown.

I was drinking a large glass of orange juice the other day and suddenly realized I was tired of it. Without a second thought, I tossed half a glass of orange juice down the sink.

It wasn't the generic kind that you have to melt and then mix with three cans of water. It was the already made kind in a carton with a screw-on cap. You know, with juicy bits of orange?

After tossing the juice, the cold fingers of guilt wrapped around my brain. The image of my mother appeared, looking angry. "You just wasted a half glass of that expensive orange juice? Do you know how much that stuff costs? Can't you kids drink a glass of water for once in your life?"

See, in a home with five kids, two adults and one income, orange juice is sacred. There is a small glass of it with breakfast every morning. Nothing more, nothing less.

Today, I thought as I stood at the sink, there's nobody to stop me from dumping juice down the sink. If I want to go to the store, buy an entire gallon of juice and dump it down the sink, nothing is going to happen to me. There are absolutely no repercussions, except when The Other Half catches me and calls the men in white suits.

I hate it when he does that.

The experience made me think of the other pleasures of adulthood. Jerry Seinfeld does a routine where he mentions eating cookies before dinner as one of them. But there are many more.

If the bed ever gets made in my house, Mr. Half makes it. What's the point? Nobody is in our bedroom except us and our cats, and I determined long ago that they don't care whether the bed is made or not. In fact, the more blankets and clothing we have scattered around our home, the better they like it.

But at home, we weren't getting out of the house without made beds. And they'd better be made right, too.

"What's that?" Mom would ask. "It's a pie bed. All straight on top and messy underneath. Where are the hospital corners?"

And what about calling in sick? I remember the old days, when getting out of school required so much work it was hardly worth the effort. First, I had to not show up at the breakfast table. Then I had to act completely miserable when Mom showed up to drag me out of bed. Then I had to demonstrate a fever during the hand-to-forehead test. And finally, the thermometer had to prove I had a fever.

Today, I pick up the phone and say, "Ma'am? This is Heidi. (Hack, hack.) I'm not feeling well. I think I've got that thing that's been going around the office. (Hack, hack.) I'd better go to the doctor.

Thanks."

I mean, that's what I WOULD say if I considered lying to get the day off. Which I'd never do. Ever. Honest.

Of course, adulthood isn't all fun and games. For every pizza you order and eat at midnight, there's a corresponding responsibility or two. For example, going to the gym the next day to burn off the calories and going to work to earn money for the next pizza.

And for every day you skip cleaning the house, there's that much more dusting to do when your mother-in-law calls to say she'll be there in 15 minutes.

But that whole deal about getting to have a boy in your room with the door closed is really cool.

~Heidi Nieland is a former Southeast Missourian staff member who lives in Pensacola, Fla.