Adulting: doing the grownup stuff, even the not fun ones.  Everything from eating icky vegetables to being “the only parent in the whole neighborhood” that assigns chores and a bedtime.  The one who’s responsible for having food in the house, ensuring all living creatures keep up with their vaccines, and paying bills so they don’t cut off the power. 

But sometimes we get strapped, so adulting means Handling Business because choices are what one might call limited.  Handling Business like:

**  Driving yourself to Urgent Care while half blind/vomiting uncontrollably/bleeding profusely because there just isn’t anyone else around with a driver’s license.

**  Picking up milk at 10:00pm because the kids killed three cartons in four days and the world will end if they can’t have their cereal the next day.

**  Asking “What was that?” after a huge bang even though there’s no screaming and you are absolutely too tired to give a shit.

**  Throwing out the old, stale, moldy, questionable leftovers because apparently the rest of the family thinks the fridge exists outside time and space with a limitless capacity and odor proof plexiglass.

**  Telling the doctor you have a sore throat even though you know he’ll jab swabs into the depths of your mouth until you’re gagging.

**  Not buying that really cool [insert item here] you wanted because holy crap, are ALL these our bills??

**  Taking one for the team (even when it’s not your team) because somebody’s gotta do it.

Adulting.  Like a boss, baby.