Being an adult is hard. They don't make this clear enough when you're growing up.
As a child you're all like, "When I grow up, I'll make all the money and buy all the junk food I want! And you can't stop me!"
We assume our parents’ response to this (or rather, lack thereof) is because we're right and they really won't be able to stop us from the inevitable freedom that would one day come with becoming a grown-up. We assume this and we're wrong. What we fail to realize is that our parents are silently choking back riotous guffaws that our naïve little declarations have earned.
What we don’t know, as children growing up, is that money isn’t simply handed to you or earned from doing simple chores around the house. You have to go to work to get that money. And this place called “work” isn’t some place where adults go to have unsupervised play time with their friends all day. No way!
What they don't tell us is that going to work is a just like to school. Only much, much worse. You still have cool kids, popular kids, mean kids, geeks, nerds and losers. Only everybody's older and more bitter. Probably from finding out that there's no recess anymore. Of course, bullies are there too. Only now they’re your bosses.
Then when you do earn your money from “work”, you have to pay bills and loans and the like. By the time you’re done with that there isn’t enough left over for “all the junk food you want” anymore. Even if you could still buy your heart’s content in junk food, you no longer have the metabolism you once did and it most likely kill you very quickly. So forget that plan.
Another thing they don’t really clue you in on is that you now have to handle a ton of responsibilities. These include the aforementioned bills, loans and other financial commitments as well as household responsibilities.
Such is the case with the recent adventures in the C household which began with a flooded bathroom and ended in three hours of sleep and a lifetime of memories.
It all began with a strange noise. We had just settled into bed. I was tired because of that place called “work” I mentioned earlier. I had just drifted off into a very welcome slumber when Mrs. C asks, “What is that noise?”
Me (¼ asleep): Sounds like the pipes rattling (really old plumbing)
Mrs. C: Don’t you think you should check?
Me: Not our problem. It sounds like it’s coming from outside.
Mrs. C: You sure?
Me: Yeah...
Soon, however, Mrs. C's grandma, Evie, is knocking on our door.
Evie: There's a loud noise coming from the toilet.
Me: GROAN!!!
Mrs. C: Just go check!
I go over to the bathroom. Surely enough the pipes running to the tank are groaning and rattling like nobody's business. I adjust the water flow and it stops. Success! I head back to bed.
Mrs. C: Not our problem, huh?
Me: Yeah... yeah...
I couldn't be bothered with trying to explain myself. Sweet slumber awaited. In my defense, it really did sound like it was coming from outside. I was ¼ way asleep anyway. She should have known better than to trust my judgement at that point. Besides, I fixed the problem. No harm, no foul. Right?
Wrong! So very wrong. A few minutes later, Evie, was knocking again.
Evie: Vinny? It won't stop running.
Me (½ asleep this time): Huh..? Wha..?
This time, Mrs. C got up to check instead. Not long after that
Mrs. C: VINNNYYY!!!
I jumped out of bed and rushed toward the direction of the bathroom. There, Mrs. C stands almost ankle deep in water. She doesn't look happy.
In fact, she looks downright pissed.
I shut the water off.
Mrs. C: Get the mop and bucket.
Me: *GROAN!!!*
Mrs. C: What?
Me: Nothing.
*mutters (quietly)*
Half an hour later, we finished cleaning up and I open the lid of the toilet tank and find the culprit. My sleep deprivation tonight is the result of a broken fitting I don't even know the name of... Nor do I care to. I'm moderately handy around the house, but this is above my pay grade. Even if could figure it out, it's almost two in the morning and hardware stores are closed, needless to say. This one, I decide to leave to the plumber to sort out later.
********
This is just one example of how our parents fail to prepare us for life as an adult. I'm sure I would have taken my time and enjoyed my childhood a bit more if my dad had pulled me aside one day and said, "Son, one day, when you grow up, you could actually be standing ankle deep in toilet water. And it will be your job to fix this. You can't call on me when this happens. You won't be able to go back to bed after the initial excitement is over and leave the adults to fix it. Because, then, you'll be the adult. It's all going to be up to you then."
IF I knew this would have cherished my childhood a whole lot more. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go get ready for "work".