Saturday mornings are for sleeping. You are taller than the slide at the McDonald's playland. Your parents' jokes are now funny. Christmas starts to piss you off. You would rather wear your dirty clothes again, 'cause mom isn't here to do your laundry anymore.
Naps are good.
Playboy's Playmate of the month is younger than you. You actually buy scarves, gloves, and sunscreen. Your idea of fun parties now include Chips 'n' Salsa and Snapple. You leave concerts and ballgames early to beat the crowd. You WANT clothes for Christmas.