I think I’ve reached a new stage of my adulthood. Bigger than my Sweet 16. Bigger than when the NJ DMV set me loose with my own driver’s license. Bigger than when I got my first credit card and spent my entire credit limit on a trip to South Africa (the card offered six months interest-free, after all!). Bigger than the time I bought crappy furniture from Walmart and had to spend a year doing all my work using a wobbly desk. And way bigger than that time a male flight attendant referred to me as “ma’am” while I was boarding a plane and I looked over my shoulder wondering who the steward could possibly be talking to.
You might be wondering what it is that I’ve done that is so very adult. I will tell you.
I bought my own pack of socks.
I’m not talking a pack of specialty, fuzzy, neon-colored socks for lounging around the house or the striped knee-high toe socks I used to buy in the fourth grade. I’m talking a pair of standard, ankle-length, black athletic socks that cushion my feet for ultimate comfort. Everyday socks.
Before this momentous purchase, I exclusively used socks that had been gifted to me by my caring mother and grandmother at Christmas time. Neon-colored ankle socks, itchy dress socks, novelty holiday kicks–whatever came in my Christmas stocking, I wore. This was undoubtedly the cause of many blisters and frozen winter toes, but that didn’t matter. I couldn’t possibly buy socks on my own that better fit my lifestyle. I already had so many socks in my sock drawer!
I doubt I’m the only one who does this.
Anyway, back to my new socks. Somehow, buying this pack of standard black athletic socks, I felt slighted. As if my mom and grandmother had failed me, gifting me only thin ankle socks and novelty Christmas socks this year. But then it dawned on me: I’m an adult now. I can either wear the wrong kind of socks and complain about how uncomfortable they are, or how they don’t match my clothing. Or, I can suck it up, stop whining, and spend $9 on a pack of new socks of my choosing.
It’s with great pride that I report I chose the latter. I’ve joined the Adult Club, and I now buy my own socks.*
*This line is best read with the Rocky Balboa theme song, “Eye of the Tiger,” or any Beyoncé track playing in the background.