The other day I stepped out of the shower and discovered, much to my chagrin, that I have sprouted my first back hairs.
Not unlike my first bout of "backne" (thank gawd that didn't last!), this was an unwelcome sight. All I could think was "It's too soon!"
It's funny, when you first start growing facial hair you're all like "yeah! I have to shave!" and you get to grow a (really awful) play-off beard. You start shaving every day despite the fact that it takes you a month to grow less hair than a baby peach.
Then once the novelty wears off, and it will, it becomes "I have to shave? Again?!"
Thus far I've really only achieved adulthood by virtue of a technicality: being twenty-four. I still get carded sometimes, which is not particularly flattering, being that the drinking age is 19 here. Especially when I go to Quebec where the drinking age is puberty.
This latest benchmark means that I'm entering that stage where I'm old enough for yearly prostate exams, but not yet old enough to get away with being crotchety.
I'm looking forward to crotchety.
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