IRISHMAN FOR HIRE

A week and a half ago, I made dinner for Stephanie and her friend Angie because their birthdays are a day apart. So to celebrate, I made them a Turkey and for dessert, I made Chocolate Mess. During the course of our dinner conversation, Angie turned to me and said, “We are going to have such a bash on your fortieth!”

It was the last thing I wanted to hear her say. My wife already teases me about being the “the old man” and from time to time, she will jokingly ask, “Grandpa, is that you?”

My friend Josh likes to make jokes about how I was alive when dinosaurs roamed the earth and my kids have even gotten into the act by guessing that I must be like “seventy years old.” Well, if you haven’t guessed by now, I am going to turn forty years old in 2009 and Angie has been planning a birthday bash with my wife for the better part of the summer.

Well, the other day, as I pondered being 29 and 132 months old, I looked in the mirror and realized that I have a few more gray hairs trying to pop up on the top of my head. I also realized that although I may feel like I am twenty years old, I don’t look twenty anymore. It turns out that a funny thing happened to me on the way to my mirror the other day; Life! And since our dinner with Angie, I have been extremely cognizant of my age and about where I have been in the past, where I am right now and what’s next on the horizon for me.

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I was at a birthday party for my nephews over the weekend and I overheard a conversation at the table behind me that piqued my interest. Four women were sharing stories about their husbands and the antics that take place in their daily lives. As I sat there chuckling at the humorous war stories being shared, one of the women asked the age old question, “Do men ever grow up?!”

This question has been plaguing women for years. I have heard the question posed at family functions, church, work, at the mall and I have to admit, my wife has even asked me if I ever plan on growing up. I have never answered her because I was sure the question was rhetorical but after hearing the question for the millionth time in my life, I feel like I have to answer the question once and for all.

“Do men grow up?”

“No, we don’t! Or at least not in the way women would hope.”

The truth is simple; by the standards our wives use to judge us, men don’t grow up. I can imagine guys everywhere trying to convince the woman in their life that I am wrong; that I don’t know what I am talking about, and that I can speak for myself but I don’t speak for men all over the world.

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My heart was pounding against my chest as I quickly made my way to the pediatric emergency room. I was breathing heavily as I stepped up to the counter and asked, “I am looking for my three year-old daughter, she was brought in by an ambulance.”

“Your daughter’s name?” the nurse asked.

“Chloe.”

“She just went up to x-ray with your wife,” the nurse responded.

“Which way is x-ray?”

“You can wait for them in her room, they should be back soon.”

I didn’t want to wait. I wanted to make a bee line to where they were taking x-rays of my daughter and see for myself what the situation actually was but instead, I was instructed by the nurse to wait patiently. I reluctantly agreed and the nurse showed me to the room that my little girl had been in before they took her up for the scans.

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