One’s 21st birthday is an occasion for celebration. It is the line of demarcation between youth and adulthood.
The 21-year-old is deemed responsible enough to become a full-fledged member of society, when all he has done is survive 21 revolutions around the sun. It’s an arbitrary standard. We know immature thirty (forty!?)-somethings and old-before-their-time 16-year-olds.
New adults are wont to procure temptations that had been previously forbidden, and so it is that we’ll be heading to Las Vegas. If he’s going anyway, the first time may as well be under the eye of those who discovered that those temptations are not all they were cracked up to be. And, yes, we will celebrate, too.
Happy birthday, son!
[Update - 5/17/06: No, I'm not a helicopter parent. No, really, I'm not. (Hat-tip: Dr. Helen)] © 2006 Stephen Yuen
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