Unchaining the inner child

I've rediscovered in just the past few days something that I've known about myself for a long time. The ways people perceive me has great import for me. This past sentence provides a perfect example, for I reworked it in my mind a few times in order to avoid the inclusion of a weak linking verb, something which really bothers only one person who probably doesn't read this blog anyway. And yet it still follows me around.

This, however, was not my point (ack! One slipped by). Children love me. Ok, so well-behaved children love me. When I baby-sit -- and this has become more in my attention since I've had my nephews this past week -- the children and I have a wonderful time, playing games and being downright silly. If, however, any adults are present, my manners change significantly, and I rather unconsciously adopt a more reserved mien. The other adult's behavior matters not at all, it seems. Even if this other person does just what I would be doing were they absent, I still only grudgingly take part. I first noticed this sense of decorum in the presence of adults as a contrast to my freedom with children when I took my very first babysitting job at age twelve. It has been in me to do this for so long that I don't know that I can easily change, nor am I entirely certain that I want to. But I do wonder what makes me do this. I think it rather odd in me.