I didn't buy cigarettes on my 18th birthday (or after that, actually), and I didn't buy alcohol today, because 1). I couldn't care less, and 2). The stuff makes my stomach feel like it's on fire.
I'm really more excited about being able to own my handgun in my own name. That's pretty sweet.
The scariest part about being 21 is that I can now be the adult in the car with Jesse and Virginia while they have their permits. I have no problem with Jesse. I'm not going with Virginia. She scares me.
But you don't have to worry about me being too responsible. Like I told Mrs. Halvorsen today when she said no hair-pulling was allowed between me and Hana, "There are some things you never grow out of!"
Apparently we did a lot of that when we were little. We don't remember. That probably shows the extent of the damage.
Coming up (so I don't forget): The Oblivion of Parenthood, OR, What Daddy Did