Transition

It seems the day has finally come and like a fine wine after 26 years of fermentation, I'm finally ready. Yesterday, I think I unknowingly entered adulthood. The events that culminated in my maturation are shrouded in mystery but I'll try to explain as best I can.

We had a couple people over to the house for Sunday football. Lately, we've all been getting together, making a loose weekend tradition out of it. Brandi decided to make turkey chili to feed those we were entertaining and, as usual, it was delicious. I asked if it was supposed to be boiling, she told me simmer and asked me if I turned it down. I said no, no one moved and everything turned out just fine. The nice thing about chili is that the recipe makes enough for a small army ensuring leftovers for the week to come. So, after the Raven's game, Brandi packs up the remaining chili in three tupperware containers and places them in the refrigerator.

The next morning, on my way out the door, I swung the refrigerator door open and grabbed a container, thinking that I'd eat it for lunch that day. After a morning of typical Monday boredom, lunch time rolled around and I left my cube a little early to heat up the chili. Is there really anything better than leftover chili (excluding pizza because that's a given)?

Finishing my last bite, I unceremoniously flung the remaining whole tomatoes, which looks like tiny bright red brains and are disgusting, along with a plastic fork into the trash and went to put the container on the shelf in my cube were I normally keep my monthly science experiments. Just as I was about to let go of the bowl, something changed in me, a light switch was flicked, like when the Grinch's heart grows ten times too big. I actually thought to myself, You know, maybe I should wash this out. Not only did I think it, a revelation in and of itself, but I even followed through on the epiphany went to the sink and rinsed the bowl. Not to mention, I remembered it at the end of the day and took it home. Talk about your model citizen and picture of responsible adulthood.

Normally, I would have let the container sit until a healthy colony of penicillin had progressed into the industrial age. I've seen things in past containers that would make God cry - unnatural things, things that were never meant to be. In fact, on a few occasions I created the primordial soup that spawned life a hundred million years ago. Science still won't recognize my findings but I'm working on it.

None of that was happening yesterday, however. I can't help but wonder where this new sense of responsibility came from. Is it a byproduct of age? Do I have a new found affinity for tupperware? Am I going to attend parties in the future? Do they even have tupperware parties any more or did that die in the early nineties along with my innocence? I have no know idea. The only way to insure I maintain my youth, at this point, is to do someone monumentally immature and stupid today to balance things out. Heading downtown tonight for fajitas and maragitas should be the perfect opportunity. Wish me luck.