Til Desk Do Us Part

Dear Grace,

It struck me the other day that we might be maturing/becoming adults. Sure, we live for the opportunity to cropdust a subway car full of sticky humans during a humidity-laced Summers day. We relish the opportunity to challenge 7 year olds to an arm wrestling match, beat them and then laugh in their face. We jump at the chance to give undeserving people wet willies. All that aside, we’re pretty much functioning adults.

Here are my reasonings for making such a grand assertion:
a) I just gave up my membership to Chuck E. Cheese. It wasn’t easy, but I shut it down. You recently went to Dave & Busters and cashed in all your tickets for a snow globe and then smashed it in front of a group of unsuspecting tweens. You then proclaimed, “Grace out!” (giving your best Ryan Seacrest impersonation.)
b) You no longer need your “recess time” during the day. No more Bop It out in Madison Square Park during your lunch hour. No more need for me to round up 14 random people so we can play an 8-on-8 game of Capture the Flag in Union Square late afternoon. I don’t need you to check my head for lice anymore. (i don’t think)
c) You don’t have to drink all beverages out of a sippy cup. I have traded in my Power Ranger’s lunch box for an Avengers one.
d) I have stopped making the claim that “Ants Marching” is the Best DMB Song of all time. You have given up the dream of convincing everyone that Melissa Etheridge is a top 10 artist of the 90′s.
e) I don’t say that I drink Milwaukee’s Best because of the taste anymore. You gave given up the bag wine and moved onto to the box.

Am I proud of us for moving into this adult club? Kind of.
Am I confident it will last for a while? Doubtful.
When will we really know that we’re stuck in adulthood for the long haul? We use the phrase, “net-net” in a non-mocking fashion.

Godspeed,
Brad