There comes a point, presumably in every person’s life (but
who are we to judge?), when that post-adolescent-idealism fades and the 20’s gloss
wears off. The scratched and murky coloured surface that remains can only be
called ‘adulthood’. The transmogrification can occur so gradually that you only
realise it when you spot your first grey pube (or you realise you have been in
the public service so long you have become a grey pube)... Conversely,
sometimes it’s onset is incredibly sudden, such as when you find yourself
praising manners in the ‘young’ man or woman who served you.
Regardless, the onset of adulthood is generally followed by
a period of grief as we are taunted with the knowledge we have moved firmly
into Adult-Ville. We now live on the corner of Fucking Old Street and Whiny
Bastard Avenue.
For us (two ‘old’ married bastards), this occurred in
separate events. Chris’s ‘big-yet-little moment’ came when he reflected that he
staunchly defended his comic book collection to his new wife as important
‘graphic novels.’ This was further solidified when he saw the ‘new starters’ at
his work place and began using the phrases; ‘when I was your age’ and ‘back in
my day.’
I had a more tumultuous graduation into ‘adulthood’. I fought
and kicked like any good Rottweiler, only to find that I began to scour the
shelves of boutique wine shops for Argentinian Malbec or Chilean Tempranillo.
No longer clinging to my beer while rocking out to ‘Loveshack’ in a crowded and
smoky bar, I would 'daintily' slurp my Spanish wine from Waterford crystal while
watching the oven timer to ensure my Spanikopita didn’t burn. However
the saddest moment came when I excitedly asked a shop assistant at KMart if
the sign was correct. Could it really be that a five pack of bikini briefs in
size 18 was only $2??? To add insult to injury, I gleefully stretched at the
waist, checking the sizing and girth of the fabric, unconsciously emulating the
scenes from my childhood where my mother had played the starring
stretching-undies role.
- Toys are no longer toys. They are ‘collectable figurines'
- Underwear is no longer for sex appeal, but for sucking in the lumpy bits
- Status updates are taken over with photos of your children
- If you don’t have children, you refer to pets as your babies
- Wine is no longer served from a cask, referred to as ‘goon’ or used as a vehicle for getting hammered. It is, in fact, a show piece and talking point at a dinner party
- You forget what Passion Pop tasted like and you
never, EVER drink pre-mixed, flavoured vodkas
Although anything goes on New Year's Eve!!! - Board games have a resurgence of ‘cool'
- Cooking is no longer something you pay a restaurant to do for you
- You use the words ‘superannuation,’ ‘tax benefit’ and ‘interest rate’ at least once a month
- It is exciting to use excel for budgeting and there is an inherent thrill in getting the numbers in the black
- Clothes go on the hanger automatically. The floor is for feet
- You refuse to pay full price- EVER
- You stop being afraid of hearing the word ‘no.’ You’re getting better at using it too!
- You wear clothes you never dreamed you would wear in your twenties because you no longer give a shit what others think of your body. If your bits work, and something fits, you go for it!
- Having a big poo is an exciting conversational piece
- Aches and pains begin to be a daily occurrence. And things crack where you never thought they could...
- You realise that sounding intelligent is often dependant on throwing a few big words and a snide look into a conversation
- If you are a man, you have more than two pairs of shoes. If you are a woman, you begin to weigh up the cost of shoes compared to other household items that could be comparably purchased... and this becomes a real consideration!
- You wear Ugg boots to bed because your blood supply no longer seems to travel to your feet in winter
- Ironing becomes a thing you just do
- Hobbies no longer include drinking and fucking but gardening and crafts
- Getting a-head refers to something you do at work, not on a Friday night out
- You realise that movies made after 1990 are all going to be mostly crap. Never Ending Story, Indiana Jones and Back to The Future will always be your classics. And nobody will ever do it like the Ghostbusters
- You own a man-bag. But prefer it to be called a ‘satchel’
- You have a clean house most of the time, not just when the rental inspection is due
- Things like squid ink pasta, mouldy cheese and marinated bug meat sound appealing and no longer invoke the ‘chuck’ reflex
- Shopping at a fresh food market becomes an ‘outing’ you look forward to
- You can no longer eat anything you want. Suddenly, it appears on your ass every day in small increments
- You ask your pets questions and answer for them
in quirky voices
"Oh really Mister Wabbit? You're weally weally late?" - You cook your pets things like salmon, scrambled eggs, bacon and steak because... ‘it’s their favourite’
- You have to consider the length of flights versus the leg room you will have on them. Business class suddenly becomes a viable option
- You can’t decode this: Churz, LMFAO,GTFO, Totes Gr8. Lol
- You know who Bill Murray is
- You shower before sexual activity to be polite
- You can remember the last time you changed your bed sheets
- You begin to see condoms as convenient for cleanliness, not contraception
- Something that starts at 8pm is a really late night
- ‘Cultural activity’ includes seeing diverse plays and listening to a range of music, not just snogging as many different coloured people as possible
- Shoes are chosen for comfort. The ‘cute’ heels begin to be the low, thick heeled wedges you can actually walk in rather than the hot pink stilettos
- Your knees hurt inexplicably
- You can still remember how cool it was to win a level of Pacman
- You complain. In writing
- Antique stores, old churches and historical landmarks become interesting and you actually stop to read the informative plaques
- You can no longer put up with bullshit silently and your friendship group becomes smaller but better. As a result, you have more people you can bitch about in your elite group of cool people
| So, like, rock on and stuff... |
This liberating sentence and the freedom that comes with it, is worth every knee crack, back pain, grey hair and odd rude-bit malfunction that could possibly arise (or not as the case may be). Us two old farts recommend embracing this beautiful phase-change and invite you to call on us if you ever want to swap big words or share a bottle of obscurely named Spanish wine.
Until next time, with butterfly kisses
Wyld and Captain Awesomo
Ha ha ha oh dear, most of that sounded spot on! Can it be true? Adulthood at 27?
ReplyDeleteEmbrace it. It's a gift! You transitioned beautifully!
DeleteSo true!!! Was wondering why I don't care what people think of me and I just do what I want to do.:D
ReplyDelete