Getting Over Growing Up

I am sitting here in my big, manly, comfortable black leather poppa chair in my living room...enjoying the fact that I have gotten over GROWING UP. That's a surprising statement from a guy who spent most of his life fooling around on the radio. So what made me say it? I figured out a little test for how you can tell you're getting over growing up today, and I passed it. Here's what I mean.
Can I open my own peanut butter jars? Yes. Do I really understand how my car is going to get through a tiny little tunnel way up the road ahead? Yes. Can I can buy all the toys I want...within reason? Yes. Just no personal jets. And I can recognize that even if there are nasty things under my bed, I'm not afraid to go to sleep. And speaking about being afraid, I have come to the definite conclusion that it is better to be scared than to be bored. I have far more often regretted what I didn't do than what I did do in getting over growing up.