TUESDAY, 18 NOVEMBER 2003
The so-called benchmarks of adulthood are marriage and buying a house. According to this standard, I am still a child, trapped in the body of an adult male. Surely I will hit the benchmarks sooner or later. The question is, will I feel more like an adult then than is the case now?
It is strange how I almost look forward to being an adult, to finally, after so many years as a child-man caught up in my own strange world, qualify as a mature adult in the eyes of the community. Will I have a car? I will certainly own a house. Maybe I’ll even shave every day! I’ll also have to mow the lawn. I will, as a matter of course – because it’s a requirement – be married.
My “wife” will introduce me to people as her “husband”. We’ll go shopping on Saturday mornings – me in an old T-shirt and possibly unshaven (since it would be the weekend). My “wife” would throw frozen vegetables and fresh fruit into the trolley and remove the frozen pizzas and fresh doughnuts that I threw in. Maybe we’ll go to church every Sunday – naturally I would be clean shaven, with a smart suit.
On Sunday afternoon we will visit friends, drink tea from cups with matching saucers like decent adults, and talk about what had happened at “work” that week. After the conversations we’ll get back into our car. My “wife” will confirm the ingredients of a recipe with the other woman, and then I’ll tap once or twice on the horn as we drive away, with a single arm waving out the window.
Oh my. How nice it sounds to be an adult. I just wonder, would it be all right if I only shave every third day? And is there a chance that we can negotiate about mowing the lawn?
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