Why are adults so complicated?

This simple query so lucidly framed has been the most difficult to answer so far. Not due to reasons philosophical but the very vagueness associated with the attempt to answer it. Nonetheless, let's give it another try.

Human offsprings, you see, when quite negligible in size, are close to the earth. Their habitual activities presume a touch of the ground which perhaps keeps them grounded. As they grow, their posture balances itself on the hindlimbs. The forelimbs, due to reasons of anatomy and possibly choice, are removed from the ground. Consequently, with an excess of the structure, they mostly do not know what to do with the forelimbs now dangling loose in the air from the two sides. Also, as a result of growth, and some call it development too, by the sheer verticality of physical existence, their prime olfactory organ, sometimes called the nose, gradually becomes quite distant from the ground. As they realize the fact of growing and can see objects previously out of reach due to height coming to a closer proximity, they oft times begin to hallucinate that the sky is nearby. Hallucinations of the kind are quite prevalent among the human species, nobody knows why, to the point of being assimilated in the collective unconscious. The result, you see, is the complicated product called the adult - head in the clouds, nose far removed from the ground, forelimbs in the air free to create nuisance and a terrible sense of insecurity from the possibility of imbalance perchance the hindlimbs don't thump existence loud enough to be registered in one's head. This head to feet contradiction makes the poor thing seem complicated. Forgive the next one you happen to meet.