When Did You Realize That You Are Really an Adult?

Recently my wife and I had a little party. That was cute. Everyone had a good time. Food was tasty. Nothing broke.

The next morning we were pleasantly surprised that our house was still clean, so we went grocery shopping. On the way home from the store, we discussed legal marijuana and the fact that weed is now so strong that you can get a very strong high without much effort. What happened to me being just a little stoned, am I right?

When we tried to put food away, we realized that our guests had brought so much beer and wine (and drank so little) that we didn’t have room for all the food we had bought.

“Ugh. That’s the worst,” I said. “All the weed from the weed store is too strong, and there’s so much booze in the fridge that I can’t fit all that food!”

Then I realized that I became an adult.

Tell us your growing up stories

And you? I’m interested to hear what led to the realization that you are no longer a child. I’m not talking about “official” coming-of-age rituals like bar mitzvahs or ramspringas. I mean that invisible milestone, the moment when you really realized that you are no longer a child, and you are no longer a teenager, not a post-teen and not a millennial, but instead you have somehow become whole, eating fiber, worrying about his-401(k), adult adult.

Maybe for the first time you hid from your child that you smoke a cigarette? Or when was the first time you were genuinely excited to try a new recipe? Maybe when you realized that your parents were right about so many things?

Or maybe you’re not there yet. Maybe you resist the siren song of shoe inserts for your plantar fasciitis and mid-priced SUVs that have good gas mileage and an excellent safety rating. What are your strategies for preventing the seemingly inevitable?

Either way: fill our comment section with these stories we could all sympathize with and reflect on the joys and horrors of adulthood.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *