Real adulthood

Can we just take a moment to talk about adult acne?

I mean, seriously. This $hit is not cool.

In fact, I’ve actually never forgiven my dad for misguidedly assuring me that once I turned sixteen, I wouldn’t have pimples any more. What the hell, dad? WHAT. THE. HELL.

Ok, ok, maybe “acne” is a bit of an overstatement. But “huge freaking pimple the size of Vesuvius on my chin” is definitely not.

The truth about adulthood is that it’s a lot like being a teenager. I still get spots. I still borrow my parents car. I still drink until I’m sick (and I’m still not proud of that). I still make bad decisions. Like staying out way past my bedtime, on week (school) nights, when I have a day full of meetings (classes) the next day.

The only difference is my parents don’t know what time I get home, and I have more money to spend.

So when does it all stop? When do I become a “real” adult?

Is it when I have a mortgage? Unlikely, given what I know of my friends.

Is it when I turn a certain age? I think we can safely rule that out, given some of the 40, 50, and 60 years olds I know.

Is it when I have a kid? Put it this way, some of the parents I know are more immature than their kids.

My theory is this: I’ll reach adulthood when I finally learn D.I.Y. Oh yes, the fabled pinnacles of “doing it yourself”. I’m not talking assembling Ikea furniture with an allen key here, I’m talking fixing a hem with a needle and thread instead of a safety pin. Fixing a permanently open cupboard with more than blu-tac. Mounting pictures where I actually want them, instead of making do with the hooks already in the walls.

A whole other life awaits me. One day.

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3 thoughts on “Real adulthood

  1. Nononononononono! Let me assure you adulthood does not come along with DIY! I had basic DIY down well before the mortgage or the certain age. Let me regale you with tales of my repaired toilet seat and painted walls (i used to be much more competent but i’m out of practice).

    I think it requires a combination of things … like getting a visa, you have to get a certain number of points across a range of areas. If I added marriage and kids to my current equation I’d definitely be closer to being a grown-up. Though I doubt the day will ever come when I pay any attention to my alcohol tolerance or the consequences of ignoring it …

  2. Pingback: Happy (belated) birthday | Laugh Lots, Travel Often

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