Everyone over a certain age has that moment. The clarifying sudden moment when you realise "Holy shit. I'm an adult."
For me, I always used to state it was when my younger cousin asked me who Kurt Cobain was, but honestly, that's a bunch of bull. I didn't feel particularly grown up that day, I just thought "What the hell is with this kid?" and then promptly burned him a mixed cd of Nirvana, Metallica and Iron Maiden just to teach him a lesson.
No, my clarifying moment came this very evening when in quick succession, I returned home to my new flat from the shop with a crate of beer under my arm to be accosted by a pair of small children trying to trick-or-treat me while their mother escorted them to a party. I humourously offered them some of my beer, to which his mother and I had what could only be described as an "Adult Laugh". You know the one, the sort of forced laugh parents always churn out when they attempt small talk while waiting for their kids to inevitibly fall and hurt themselves at the park.
Questioning whether or not I had the right to still ocassionaly enjoy old reruns of Tom and Jerry, I returned home and settled in for a quiet evening of alcohlism, WoW and checking facebook during mana breaks. It was there I realised just how many friends I have (mostly within a year or two of my own age at least) complaining about how annoying their parents were. I gazed around my delightfully empty living room, strewn with takeaway wrappers, dvds, half painted Warhammer models and my pet tortoise, and realised that, holy crapsticks, here I am 400 miles away from my family, supported entirely on my own income and with nobody telling me to get a reasonable amount of sleep or clean my room.
I. Am. Old.
For me, I always used to state it was when my younger cousin asked me who Kurt Cobain was, but honestly, that's a bunch of bull. I didn't feel particularly grown up that day, I just thought "What the hell is with this kid?" and then promptly burned him a mixed cd of Nirvana, Metallica and Iron Maiden just to teach him a lesson.
No, my clarifying moment came this very evening when in quick succession, I returned home to my new flat from the shop with a crate of beer under my arm to be accosted by a pair of small children trying to trick-or-treat me while their mother escorted them to a party. I humourously offered them some of my beer, to which his mother and I had what could only be described as an "Adult Laugh". You know the one, the sort of forced laugh parents always churn out when they attempt small talk while waiting for their kids to inevitibly fall and hurt themselves at the park.
Questioning whether or not I had the right to still ocassionaly enjoy old reruns of Tom and Jerry, I returned home and settled in for a quiet evening of alcohlism, WoW and checking facebook during mana breaks. It was there I realised just how many friends I have (mostly within a year or two of my own age at least) complaining about how annoying their parents were. I gazed around my delightfully empty living room, strewn with takeaway wrappers, dvds, half painted Warhammer models and my pet tortoise, and realised that, holy crapsticks, here I am 400 miles away from my family, supported entirely on my own income and with nobody telling me to get a reasonable amount of sleep or clean my room.
I. Am. Old.
