Maturity knows no age

One of the following is from a journal entry several years ago about an adult actress in a show for which I was a stage manager.  The actress is all about the strength, power, and independence of women, and she prides herself on having those qualities in abundance.  The other is from my journal today about an interaction with an eight-year-old kid.  Like most eight-year-olds, he’s all about testing boundaries in growing his own strength, power, and independence.  Thinking of these two today, separated in life experience by over half a century, reminded me that maturity is not necessarily a function of age....

From my journal:

 .....For a while, she would just throw her underwear on the floor even though I told her where the hamper was (throwing it meant I'd have to put on gloves and deposit her dirty underwear in the hamper for her).  One time, I happened to be there in the dressing room with her when she threw something on the floor even though the hamper was only three feet from her... so I re-positioned the hamper so that it was only a few inches from her... and still she proceeded to just THROW the rest of her clothes on the floor anyway like a spoiled little child.  That was the day I stopped putting her dirty clothes in the hamper.  I simply walked out of the room and took care of my other duties.  By the time I left the theater, she had picked up her dirty underwear and clothes and put them where they belonged….  It took awhile, but she seems to have learned, finally, to take care of her own underwear…. Who knew I'd be trying to break an adult of her immature, inconsiderate, and dirty habits and replace them with the thoughtful, well-mannered habits of a properly brought-up seven-year-old?
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…And then there's the little boy this week:

Unruly Kid: Can I get a drink of water? [as he runs to the water fountain without looking at me, let alone waiting for my reply.]

Me: No, wait. Stand back in line.

Kid: But I asked.

Me: You didn't.  You know you're all supposed to stand quietly in line against the wall and then one at a time after you ask you can go get water.  But you never stood quietly against the wall, and you didn't wait for my response, so you weren't actually asking.  That's not polite.  So now you have to wait until all the other students, who politely stood quietly against the wall and raised their hands, get water. Then you can get water.

As I wait to see what full-of-attitude response I'm going to get back, the kid thinks about it for a few seconds, then looks at me and nods his head in satisfied approval and says, "Yeah, I can respect that. That makes sense. I'm cool with that."

 .....He's cool with that.  It was all I could do not to laugh.  Who knew there's a mature little respectful guy in there?