One of Garth Brooks' best songs is "I'm Much Too Young (to Feel This Damn Old)."

I hear you, Garth.

My trouble is all these early 20-somethings entering my life these days, mostly through new friendships and returning to college.

Watching them makes me wonder what idjit behavior I'm having now that I'll think about in 10 years. What will make me shake my head and say, "What was I thinking?"

My friend Nancy says it's probably the way we 30-somethings are discontented with our lives. We've got good jobs, good cars, good friends, good homes, but still we focus on what we don't have. When we're in our 40s, we'll see how great it all was, she says.

If that's the dumbest thing we're doing, OK.

Let's compare discontentment with the stupid mistakes I made oh those many years ago.

I brought my boyfriend to work at a radio station one night because I couldn't stand to be without him. It was the graveyard shift and my boss would never find out, I thought.

My boss found out. The end.

A friend convinced me to ride on the back of his four-wheeler over some rough terrain. I fell off sideways, and he ran over the length of my left leg. The resulting bruise was mistaken for a hideous, tire-track birthmark for the next several months.

I learned how to smoke from a roommate.

Some other roommates moved out while I was on vacation and stole some stuff, including my violin sheet music. What in the world did they want with violin sheet music?

At a party, I drank a concoction that involved Sunny Delight and have developed a lifelong taste aversion. Enough said.

I bought a used car that was so abysmal, the repair prices almost totaled the original price of the car. My personal favorite: On U.S. 67, the gear shift suddenly became detached from the gears, putting the car in permanent neutral.

I dated a guy at work. It ended badly, so I did the logical thing and dated another guy at work. (I married that second one, which turned out to be one of the few smart things I did.)

I told a guy who was leaving me, "Don't leave me." Ugh. Never say that.

Law enforcement officers stopped me for speeding five times in a year. Three tickets, two warnings.

My monthly phone bills ran from $200 to $300 due to all the long-distance calls. That's in 1990 dollars, by the way. I got cash advances on credit cards to cover them.

At another job, my boss had to erect a barrier between my other coworkers and me because I was "a catalyst for trouble." I had to talk louder to be heard over the barrier.

I attempted to lose weight on that stupid cabbage soup diet where, on day two, you get a potato and, on day four, you get all the bananas and milk you want. But how many bananas does a person really want? Ends up not many.

My hair was burned up in a bad perming incident and my eyebrows accidentally dyed black. I am a strawberry blonde. I still paid for both procedures.

I used my bicentennial quarter collection at the Laundromat.

Oh, the list goes on, but my point is this: We shouldn't be so hard on the young people in our lives, because they have to make their own mistakes, too. And look how well we turned out.

Wait a minute. Better have them call so I can set them straight.

Heidi Hall is managing editor of the Southeast Missourian.