Adulthood, Responsibilities, and Alice Cooper

So, last Saturday, I became the parent of an adult.  No, I didn't go adopt some poor underprivileged 35 year old from the seedy side of town (Tony never lets me have any fun).  My son turned 18. 

Isn't he a good-lookin' thing?  Takes after his mama!

Now, I know you're thinking, "How can this be?   She's so young, so full of life.  She can't be much more than 18 herself!" 

No really, you ARE thinking that, RIGHT???

But no, I am the parent of an 18 year old, and I didn't really have him at the age of 6.   And if you're thinking this is shocking, imagine how I feel.

It seems like just yesterday that I was holding this tiny little baby with tufts of black hair in my arms.  Boy, was I scared.  I mean, I could've DROPPED that bundle...like on the floor...which wasn't clean...because I'm a horrible housekeeper and always was.  Where did that last 18 years go?    It sure went by fast.

But I hope that he has a few years of fun left before he's saddled with the drudgery that most of us adults face:  bills, family responsibilities. You know--pay your bills, go to work, raise your children, die.
Ok, maybe not.   After all, he's 18, and he don't know what he wants.

Right, Alice?

But I know what I want for him.  A good life.