Boyman

I am a fortunate boy. My girlfriend helped me pack this week. This means that she packed more than I did because I don't know how. You see, I'm just a boy. I still don't feel like a man, but please don't think of this as a psychological inferiority. I keep experiencing new things. As long as that happens, I don't think I can feel like a man.

But I might be getting close. For instance, in recent days I bought cleaning supplies, a vacuum, two chairs and a table, all which amount to more merchandise than I've bought in my life. I think I might run out of things to buy in about a year. After I buy everything that I need - not everything I want - then I might be a man. I think all I have left is a grill, a mower and a watering can. No kidding.

Buying new things and trying new things always come with a blitz of questions.

"Byrd, does the icing go on the strudel before or after the toaster?" I asked, expecting a look of disbelief but knowing that saving my raspberry strudel was worth the look.

"After," he said. With the look.

"I'm glad we had this talk," I offered.

I cleaned with my cleaning supplies today. I did not clean for myself. I'm moving. I only did it so nobody could unnecessarily charge me money, something I would almost equate to losing to Duke. Still, the cleaning made me feel like a grown man. I drank my old college beer and felt more boyish. I think I am at that stage between boyhood and manhood.

But honestly, I think I've been at that stage since I was a freshman in high school. It is an incredible stage that allows me to educate children and ask a peer how to pay an electric bill in the same day.

This stage might last for another decade. I can only hope. I am a boyman.