Vintonville - The life and times of a guy, his Lady-Friend, a Little Dude and a Little Sis.

I’ve never been one who’s pined for the next stage in life. Childhood, teen-time, the college years– all reveled in. All savored like a fine <insert favorite noun here>. I never wanted be a grown-up.

I knew.

I knew grown-uppery was awash in all kinds of terrible stuff like math and bills and work and… math. There was, however, one footnote to all that when I entered the teen years: I envied grown-uphoods promise of a non-temperamental and pimple-free complexion. That’s right. No crazy third-eyes flaring up right before Homecoming pictures. No explaining away “mosquito bites”. No, sir. Adulthood was a Benzoyle Peroxide-free paradise realized.

Ha.

That one gilded promise of grown-uphood turned out to be a total bust. Who knew that as an adult I’d still find myself the sad host to a raging eye of Sauron? An angry eye– burning fiercely right in the middle of my forehead? Not me, that’s who.

Luckily, in the 4 days since the return to teen town that inspired this post, Sauron’s eye– praise be– is slowly fading away– but rest assured, that sucker would have made The Dark Lord of Mordor explode with jealousy.

Sigh.

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