I found this picture tonight while I was rummaging through my dresser drawer looking for Rakes' wallet.
Don't ask; yes he's 5. And yes he has a wallet. Inside of which resides canceled credit cards, expired drivers license's and my library card from 1988. Plus his paycheck, whatever that means.
I'd sort of forgotten about this picture, taken at the height of my mullet and 6 months before I'd move back to NC, ask Ang out to dinner, and stumble into the rest of my life complete with kids, mortgages, and more worries than I ever imagined possible.
What struck me most was how freaking young I look; taking a peek at the mirror tonight, I hardly recognize that young punk with the horrible hair cut. Back then, I thought of nothing more than what was happening right now; today? I think about college funds, 401K's, and pray they never reinstate the draft for my boys sake.
I wonder what I'd say to the 20 year old me, besides "Get a haircut; you look like a complete dink". I reckon I'd tell him to enjoy it while it lasts, because along with adulthood comes a whole new set of worries and problems. I'd most likely tell him to quit taking himself so seriously and that girl you've been losing sleep over? You'll forget her name as soon as you kiss that woman you're meant to be with. And those friends? As good as they are, they won't hold a candle to the ones you'll meet down the road.
The more I think about, there really isn't anything I'd say; most likely that hard headed know it all wouldn't listen anyway. Besides, the bottom line is the road I travelled ended here.
With Ang, the kids, and the life I have now.
So if I've gotta put up with having a monumentally bad hair style to get to where I am today?
I can live with that.
The Stuff You Can’t See
2 weeks ago