Friday, July 19, 2013

Condo Minimums

Metaphor for Adulthood
My daughter Spencer and her boyfriend Glenn recently closed on a condo.

Now begins, as Shakespeare puts it, the tempest to their souls.

Spencer and I went shopping briefly just to get one or two things: some cleaning products, filters for the air conditioner, blinds, and replacement hardware for a chest of drawers they have.

Cost?  Just shy of two hundred dollars.  And we didn't even find the replacement hardware.

Then off to the paint store to learn a gallon of the paint they need for some cabinets is going to come in around fifty bucks.  Mind you, this is only the tip of the iceberg of the expenses they've already covered, and the tippy-tip-top of the iceberg of expenses yet to come.  A couple of hundred dollars here, and a couple of hundred dollars there, and after a while it starts to add up to real money.

While Spencer was checking out a Home Depot I was standing behind her giggling like a fool.  The prices were so funny!  Ha-ha!  The blinds are fifty bucks, the air filter is $19.95!

I kept thinking of the scene in A Christmas Movie when someone challenges some poor mope to stick his tongue to a frozen metal pole, and he ends up getting stuck until the fire department comes for him.  That's how it felt watching Spencer - like someone had told her to stick her tongue onto a frozen pole, and she'd gone and done it!

Growing up is like sticking your tongue onto a frozen pole.  You don't know what it'll be like until you do it, and once you've done it, you can't back out.

Not that buying the condo wasn't the right thing to do, I'm convinced it was a very good move and I'm proud as punch they've done it, but that doesn't alter the fact that growing up is a bitch.  Actually it's a series of bitches, intermittently spaced and of various sizes.  And one day, Lord willing, she'll have a child of her own, and the day will come that child will strike out on his own.  And Spencer will get to watch him deal with adulthood's little surprises for himself.  That's how the species works; we pass the mantle to the next generation.

Put your tongue on this pole, now it's your turn.