Responsible Adult.

Lately I’ve been thinking about being an adult—specifically when I might become one—for all my life I’ve always felt mentally younger than I physically am. Not that this is a bad thing, but even as a parent I never felt quite 'adult' enough and I know I'm not the only one. Even in my fifties I attack each day with what could best be described as naïve youthful exuberance. There are very few people out there who look in the mirror and see their true age; you might 'feel' your true age, but you rarely ever 'see' your true age. George Bernard Shaw once said, “Youth is wasted on the young” , this tracks as it takes a while to fully appreciate youth.

The other night as I was preparing Estevan (our coffee maker, in case you missed that entry) for the morning coffee ritual and reached for the filters that live above the coffee can. What started as a 100-pack was now down to the last one, and it was at this moment that I realized I’m an adult. I had used every single coffee filter in a package of coffee filters that I bought with my money. This has never happened before, after this pot I will have made 800-cups of coffee.

Filters have dropped in the sink by mistake, been left on the counter only to have orange juice spill on them, I've become frustrated trying to pry one filter away from the rest of the pack at 6AM and have thrown entire packages across the room in frustration, more than once I've dropped them on hot elements and watched them catch on fire, and once I even put a pack in the dishwasher because half asleep I thought they were a strange fluffy bowl.

Alas, fair reader, this week I actually used an entire package of them and did not waste one. The sense of accomplishment I have is spiritual. How did this happen? Honestly, with no hint of sarcasm, I feel I’ve leveled up. Who else do you know who has accomplished this feat? Dare I say no one in recent memory. Sure, we might think we’ve done it, but have you really? Not a wasted one? Not become so frustrated by their weird ridges and strange adhesion to their felty downstairs neighbour that you said, “Fuck it.” and stuffed them into a junk drawer, or pushed them down the garburator, ripped one or two in half, or went off to the dollar store and got a semi-permanent gold foil filter? Pushwah. Those are for kids.

Friends, today I have become an adult for I have used all my filters. This is a big deal as my 'coffee accomplishments' to date are that of legend: I have finished tins of ground coffee (easy, who hasn't); I’ve shaken out the last bits of instant coffee out of the jar (even ones with the weird inside lip); I have 'French Pressed' coffee over a campfire (clearly I'm a coffee savant); I've made bar and restaurant coffee by the thousands (thank you Mother's Pizza and Curly's at Stadium Plaza, and of course Market Mall Smitty's); I have made espressos, lattes, flat whites, and cappuccinos (I'm posh like that); but until this week I have never, ever finished an entire package of coffee filters. I present to you Michael Dargie, responsible adult, ready and eager to house sit your plants, take your mail to the letter box, and buy milk from the store. If I had a decrepit cow to trade, you would no longer need to worry about getting magic beans and a giant in return.

And look, I just grew a new chest hair. Coincidence? I think not.