Ruminations on Adulthood

I turned 21 yesterday. It's the last real legality-based milestone in a person's life, although a minor one for me, since all it means is that, if I ever happened to be in the States, I could legally buy all the booze and porn I wanted. Here in Ontario, the legal age is nineteen and downtown Ottawa is just across the river from Hull, Quebec (seriously, cross a short bridge and you're in another province) where the legal age is 18. So, for all intents and purposes, I've already been legal for three years.

Anyhow, turning 21 did make me give some thought to the nature of adulthood itself. Specifically, at what point in your life do you become an adult? I tried to come up with a profound moment in which most people's lives undergo that change from adolescence to adulthood. Turns out I'm not a very profound kind of guy. So, instead, here are three very un-profound moments in which you become an adult.

1. You buy a notebook, ledger, computer program or whatever for the purposes of keeping records of your financial transactions - implies responsibility and the beginnings of a disturbingly necessary form of anal retentiveness that exists in the adult world.
2. When a telemarketer calls and ask if you're the person responsible for the household's long distance, you can no longer say 'No' and have a clear conscience - implies that you have your own place and probably a long distance plan, too. Bonus points if you need a long distance plan to call your parents.
3. You devise your own system of organizing your utensils - aside from being a grand statement of independence (or liberation, depending on how you look at it) this implies that you own cutlery. And the idea that you've had to purchase kitchen utensils is rather impressive in itself.

Now, if you'll excuse me, all this maturity has put me out of touch with my inner child. Think I'll go for a visit.