Just a number?

You know that feeling like the old person inside you is trying to get out? Today is definitely a day for that. Christmas lists have been circulating in my family, and this morning I read one from Chris, who just turned 18. He was kind enough to translate most of what he wants (a "radient shred stick" is apparently a snowboard), but I actually had to google "polished rootbeer oakley gascans." His list kind of reminds me of beat poetry; I might get him a black beret and bongo drums.
It's not just Chris. Grad school is giving me some weird age vertigo. I have a few undergrads in a couple of my classes and their attitudes make me feel about 85. But some of the professors around here (especially my Middle High German professor and hero of the week, Anatoly Liberman) make me feel like I'm in 5th grade. Meanwhile, many of the other grad students I know seem to be in a bizarre limbo too: they look older than they are but live like they're younger. Maybe by the time I'm done with my PhD, my inner child and my inner octogenarian will find a way to peacefully coexist. I'll probably always need help with those Christmas lists, though.