The Joys of Grown-Up Kids

One of my sons, the 26-year-old, is spending a couple of weeks with us...something he hasn't done for ages. The last time he was in our home for anything other than Christmas, Thanksgiving or a quick weekend trip, I was treated to the residual hallmarks of adolescence. I'm sure you know the drill, including but not limited to clothes all over the place, crushed Doritos on the carpets, spilled drinks on the coffee table, and marathon movie-watching.

Imagine my amazement Monday upon our return from the infamous dental visit posted earlier. As we exited the car, my son (a complete stranger, I now realize) actually walked back out of the garage and down the driveway to retrieve of his own accord (be still, my heart) the emptied garbage can and recycle bins from the curb. Even crazier, when I thanked him profusely, he acted as if his actions were only to be expected.

I had chalked this incident up as a complete fluke of nature when I observed the clincher. Yesterday my son (who keeps referring to me as "Mom," so I'm sure it must be he) walked purposefully into an empty room where I had left the light on and turned...it...off. Enough said. Manhood has been achieved.

Of course, being a grown-up doesn't mean one puts away all childish things. Apparently it doesn't mean one puts away all one's clothes either...or watches Heroes one DVD at a time. That's okay. Men are more manly with a flaw or two, right?