Day 253: Not Yet A Dult

My nephew has picked up on the true meaning of the term “adult” by separating it into “a” and “dult.” As in here a dult, there a dult, everywhere a dult dult.

In a recent poll of relative knowledge, however, I, a barely dult, came in just below John (the nephew) on the knowledge scale. Papa Dear, his maternal grandfather, knew the most with Mom and Daddy as close seconds. As I said, I am apparently a bottom feeder.

This is Papa Dear, Wisest Man (also an awkward pic to make Clara smile):

It was interesting to start applying this scale to my own life, as it is weird to see what your brain has somehow categorized as knowledge, and how unexamined such expectations are. Who knew that my mind would have my sister-in-law beat out my brother, the law student and household genius? Or that my brain thought Claire was ahead of me (I felt betrayed)? But clearly, publishing those results would be more trouble and less cute than discussing the nephew’s thoughts on the matter.

Anyway, with Claire and my birthdays a quick follow-up to an exceptionally hectic holiday season (go capricorn!!!), this concept of being a dult is on my mind. For example, at what age does it become okay to not go home to family over vacation? When is it expected that friends spend major holidays like Christmas together rather than with not particularly distant family? At what age do you realize that the “fun local Yes Girls” frolicking through the ads on not-so-late night TV are probably not the same girls you would talk to that night?

People have written many articles on the concept of a new “urban family,” in which friends and coworkers etc. replace the real nuclear family people have waiting for them around some other urban center. I don’t know when this crossover is made, or if it ever is for women really. The boys in my life who do not go home scoff at my remarks about familial obligation. I cannot help but feel that no pleasing girl type person (like myself) would ever feel that guilt was something I could just refuse to have so that I could do whatever I wanted (this is what I was told to do) despite what my family says. I cannot see a girl doing this and being accepted back into the family. A boy, and it would be charming and understandable. Am I right?

My parents would kill me if I did not come home. And apparently, after my bout with strep throat (yes, the whininess re: fever and throat was because of a real disease) I would die if I did not do so. Clearly, I’m not ready for such a thing.

Go Dult-hood!!!!

PS—Serious fact: does anyone have any advice on this issue. Kenya Kelly gave me a beeeyootiful iPod nano for Christmas/welcome home/hi! Present. The screen is crooked, though…like the whole digital menu screen is askew; physically the iPod is red and benefits AIDS and is perfect. So what do I do??? I don’t understand how this is possible.

PPS—for people around Dunkin Donuts ads. Have you noticed the new one in which they push their gimmick about not having to order coffee in French or Italian (or, “perhaps Fritalian”) because they use words like small, medium etc. And becuase they just use the word “Latte”...but this is in itself Italian!!!! The whole point of the ad is not needing to do that!!! Arrggghhhh…..Not a funny point or even an interesting one; but one that hurts me deeply and I admit I took advantage of my public venue to complain.

1 comment:

Claire and Lara said...

ah, urban tribes....

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