You whippersnappers

It’s official.

Despite all my efforts to avoid, stop or at least delay it, I’ve become a grown up.

Darn it.

You see, that’s what I’m talking about. I can’t even swear and be all edgy anymore.

When ever I try to curse or use a dirty word, I subconsciously think of the automatically replace it with something like “freak” or “gun” or “tuckus.” If I focus really hard sometime I can still write “poop.’

I realized that I had become a card-carrying adult when I compared my Spring Break activities with those of my younger, singler friends.

Let’s just say no ones going to be online downloading clips from my vacation.

Even compared to my Spring Break last year, this year was responsible, mature and lame.

Last year I went for the ultimate road trip with my roommate. It was the quintessential road trip across the back roads of America. Through it we learn the history of this great nation, a great deal about our selves and that Kansas is a stupid, stupid place.

This year, I helped put new carpet in my friend’s nursery.

Through it I learned that mauve is a kind of pinkish red and that carpet adhesive is really sticky.

I’ve also learned the satisfaction of a job well done.

Or at least, a job done.

Geek on