I've always looked at the age 30 as the first year of real adulthood. And I mean the serious kind. The kind with a wife, kids and a really big car to fit all the kids.
The kind with a home.
Well, now I'm 29 and I feel ready to take on the seriousness of the age 30. I have prepared myself with a few things as well: I have the most perfect family, with my wife, son and a dog, as well as the really big car to fit them all in.
I have a home. We have a home. I'm ready to add that next number to my age.