So You Think You Are Ready To Be An Adult?

I always tell my kids, “Don’t rush too fast to grow up. Enjoy the freedom of youth while you can.” Of course, they don’t listen to me, but what do I expect? I didn’t listen to my parents either.

Anyway, in an effort to slow them down a little – especially my two boys – I wrote this little story. Who am I kidding? I wrote it to scare the shit out of them. And yeah, I know, it’s a little harsh, but extreme sarcasm is the only way I know to get them to pay attention.

So You Think You Are Ready To Be An Adult? | TheFurFiles

Check this out. You are on the verge of real adulthood. You think you are “all that” – that you can handle just about anything – and then this happens…

You and your significant other have been living in the same one-bedroom apartment for what, one or two months now? Originally, the place belonged to your girlfriend Amy, but when the two of you met and started dating – getting closer and closer as time went on – it was just easier for you to move in. Besides, you were living in a house full of guys before – sort of a leftover set-up from college – and you really needed to get the hell out of there. All that beer was going straight to your midsection…

At Amy’s, it went from staying over a few times a week, to having a few drawers in her dresser and a small spot on the bathroom counter for you stuff. When your brought over your XBox 360, it was pretty much a done deal. Anyway, Amy suggested it. “Brent, why don’t you just move in. It will make things a lot easier – no more of this running back and forth.” And it made sense – sort of. She liked to cook and clean; you didn’t. So you figured, what the heck, if it doesn’t work out, you’re only committed for a year max, the length of the lease.

Well, lucky you – it HAS worked out, and now you and Amy (more Amy) want to take your relationship to the next level. You and Amy (more Amy) yearn to put your stamp on the world as a couple, to become that perfect “one”, that unit of solidarity that includes sharing the same bank account and peeing in the same toilet on a daily basis forever. This sort of love only comes around three or four times in a person’s life, so you’d better catch it now before it gets away. Sure, there will probably be babies involved in this whole deal, but will try to put that off as long as possible. Screaming, barfing, pooping, miniature humans just aren’t your “thing”. And they take time away from watching football, and playing video games.

Yes, the “m” word – as in “marriage” – has reared its ugly head, and it’s to the point that you’d rather succumb to it than have to deal with Amy’s whining all the damn time. Plus, her father can be a real asshole when it comes to this subject. He keeps barking, “Hey Brent, when are you going to make an honest woman of my daughter? Or are you just going to boink her forever for free?” And he always has that look in his eye that says he’s going to stab you if you don’t propose pretty soon. You’d rather keep your chest cavity in tact, thank you very much. And as if that’s not bad enough, her father’s attitude is affecting your sex life as well. Every time you do it, it’s like he’s right there watching. It doesn’t take a psychic to know that if you ever got Amy pregnant before you tied the knot, you’d be in big, BIG trouble. Her father has an extensive gun collection.

So you decide to do it – you decide to set a date – though you tell Amy that you want to keep the ceremony relatively small. There are better things to spend money on, like that trip to the Superbowl that you and your boys have planned for the upcoming season. Of course, Amy wants to invite everyone she knows to the wedding, including her cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, and ALL of her friends. You can’t help but wonder why you just can’t elope. Yes, you “wonder” this, but you don’t dare mention it. You know that it’ll NEVER happen.

Now to go along with this marvelous idea of the wedding, Amy has also decided that the two of you should buy a house. She says, “We can’t live in this apartment forever, Brent. We won’t have enough space once I get pregnant.” Furthermore, she says that she wants to be able to come home from the honeymoon, and just settle right in. Even though you don’t want to take on so much responsibility at once, Amy is relentless. “Either we buy a house, or you can consider me dead.” Those are her exact words. “And I’ll tell my father.”

So you decide to do that too – you decide to buy a house. Surprisingly, Amy finds one she likes in less than a week. “I’ve had my eye on this one for a while,” she says. It’s OK. It only has a marginal amount of water damage in the basement, a few cracks in the foundation. and a roof and windows that need replacing, but hey, whatever you honey bunny wants, right? Straight away, you guys make an offer, a little bit above asking price because Amy couldn’t stand to lose this deal. At the bank the very next day, you sign the papers, putting you as a couple (but more you, because Amy’s decided to stay home to look after the children that are sure to come VERY soon) four hundred and ninety-five thousand dollars in debt.

“That’s it,” says the bank guy. He has a unibrow. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” says Amy, all smiles. Barely able to stand, you feel like throwing up.

At this point, you turn to Amy and say, “Hang on for a second. I just gotta do something.” Rushing out of the bank, you go next door to the donut shop. Once inside, you push past the line of people waiting to get food, and you head straight for the washroom. Locking the door, you unzip your fly, pull down your pants, sit down on the toilet, clutching your stomach. Suddenly – but not unexpectedly – tears start to stream down your face, and some stuff comes out of the other end of your body as well. Unable to stop, you bawl your eyes out for a good three to four minutes – the amount of time that any man is ever allowed to cry. That’s it. You are trapped, and there will be NO escaping. Amy is happy. And you my friend, have just experienced real adult life.

Something to definitely rush into, eh buddy?

Author: Amanda Fox

I have three slightly neurotic grown children, three very active and extremely cute cats, and one crazy busy husband. I've been married for more than twenty-eight years. I love fitness, fashion, dancing, interior design and architecture, music, and movies.