So This Is What Adulthood Looks Like

It's taken me three days to recover. On Friday night, I embarked on a little project I like to call "growing up" and I did so with a bang. How did this happen? Well, it all started when the doorbell rang a few weeks ago. I made the mistake of opening the door, and found a slightly rotund, balding man on my doorstep holding pamphlets for his company. He was offering to give me a free estimate of what it might cost to change out our windows and doors. Then I made the mistake of saying "Sure, I'd love an estimate" and gave him my phone number.

Now, I'm not a complete idiot. I gave him my house number, being as it is the one phone I NEVER answer, and I told him to call me once I returned from my trip to New York, so I had plenty of time to rethink whether I needed my doors and windows replaced. But when I returned from my trip and a week later noticed that there were calls from his company on my phone every day since my return, I started to feel a little guilty. And when the phone rang and I happened to look at the caller id and notice that it was this company, calling again, the guilt returned enough that I actually picked up the phone.

The conversation was odd. The woman who called to set up the appointment was obviously reading off a script, and the more it went along, the more creeped out I was by the whole thing. Not to put too fine a point on it, but I wouldn't have been surprised if they estimator had come by and tried to get us involved in a multi-level marketing thing for windows and doors. It was really awkward. But I went ahead and scheduled the appointment, thinking that 8:00 on a Friday night would be a fine time to talk windows and doors. After all, what else would I be doing, now that my favorite babysitter is sequestered away in Flagstaff?

But then Friday night arrived, and neither Oscar nor I had eaten, and we were both exhausted and all I wanted to do was cancel this stupid appointment that I was stupid enough to set up because I stupidly answered the phone. Though, as Oscar rightfully pointed out, when else were we going to do this, and really, we DO need our doors replaced at least, and let's just listen to his pitch and send him on his way so we could think about it. Heh. We're so naive.

Because the estimator got here and we started talking, and he educated us about how much energy we were losing through our current orifices and how much sound was coming in, and before we knew it, he had samples on the table and was showing us how this side of the window is 275 degrees, but THAT side of the window...the one that is presumably inside your house...THAT side didn't even raise a full degree. And before I knew it, I was nodding vigorously. And then Oscar was nodding vigorously. And at that moment, I knew it was all over.

As you can probably guess, before we could blink, this guy had paperwork out and I was filling out an application for a five-figure loan amount. And the thing was, by the time he left, which was after midnight, people, I was so exhausted, I couldn't even hyperventilate with buyers' remorse. In explaining this whole situation to McMama the other day, she made all the sympathetic noises and then said, "You just bought windows and doors for your house. You're making home improvements. Do you feel like an adult now?" And yes. Yes, I do. In fact, I feel a little TOO much like an adult. I'd kind of like to mitigate this "feeling like an adult" experience. So I'm thinking I need to get McMama and Mama Jo to go ahead and assume the loan payments for these windows and doors. That will go a long way towards helping me retain my youth. Because nothing says "immature freeloading infant" quite like getting your parents to pay for your expenses. I feel younger already.