06E074

Metamorphosis

Despite my attempts to avoid it I am going through the male change of life. I am turning into my father. Shocking I know, and at such a young age, but all the signs are there. In fact, put me in shorts with black socks and dress shoes and no one could tell the difference between us.

It started subtlety with my sudden interest in thermostats. I found myself wandering through the house and adjusting the temperature to lower the electric bill. I didn’t think much of that until I became obsessed with lights. Why were they left on and who left them on? I needed to know.

The smoking gun came when I heard someone who sounded exactly like me scolding the children. “Go to your room for the rest of the week!” “Don’t ever touch your sister again!” “The next person that says a word is grounded for life!” These were classic Dad-isms. I knew I was in trouble.

I ran to the bathroom and locked the door. I stood in front of the mirror and contorted my face. The longer I stared at myself the more I saw Dad looking back at me. After an hour or so I was horrified to recall that Dad spent all his time in the bathroom. The change was moving quickly.

How could this be? When I was sixteen and knew everything I swore I wouldn’t let this happen and for a long time it didn’t. I even began to speculate that the heredity gene may have skipped over me and on to one of my sisters. After all, bedsides the hair on his head and nostrils Dad’s body is as smooth as a swimmers. I have more chest hair than Tom Selleck in 1979. There must be a biological explanation for this.

I suppose my real concern is that I am growing older. In truth I cannot think of a better man to turn into than my Dad. I just figured it would happen when I grew up. Apparently, my Herculean efforts to avoid adulthood have not worked. I’ve tried everything from avoiding work and responsibility to wearing my size 32 fruit of looms, though my waist has grown significantly large enough to house 38’s, but I’m still finding gray hairs south of the strike zone, I can’t stay out past 11:00pm, I hate crowded bars and when cleaning up a room I knee walk from object to object rather then bend up and down. I’m ready for the rest home.

On the bright side, my parents are retired and spend their time cruising the world in search of the perfect prime rib. That’s something to look forward to. Meantime, I’ll continue my quest to reverse the aging process and start by manscaping the gray from my groin.

SE