A Boy Becomes a Man

When I think of the stereotypical things a guy does when he grows up, a few activities come to mind. Going to the hardware store. Taking out the trash. Watching football while drinking beer. (check, check and check)

However, two things stand out to me. Probably the big reason they stand out to me is that I haven't done them. Until now.

#1. Mow the yard. Yes, growing up I would mow my parents yard. I would put on my best early 90's mix tape (Informer by Snow, anyone?) and take two hours to mow the yard. I even spent a summer during college mowing yards to bring in some extra money. However, what I am talking about is mowing MY yard. Nothing to me says homeowner like mowing your own yard. This little piece of planet earth is yours to take care of. And while our piece is infinitely smaller than most peoples'. It is ours. I have to mow it.

Now, I have a mower. I have had a mower since we moved in. It was left with the house when we moved in. Actually there were two. However, I had my doubts that it would work. So I never tried it. Plus, our neighbor was mowing our yard because his grandkids use it as a playground so what motivation did I have? However, finally, a few Saturdays ago. I wheeled out the mower we didn't recycle (yes, apparently you can recycle mowers), gassed it up and pulled the handle. First try, it started right up.

So I promptly mowed the yard which took about 20 minutes. However, I felt like a homeowner. Since then I have mowed it one other time. And while the whole process doesn't take very long, I savor it. I'm sure that will fade by mow #5 but for now, I love it.

#2. Grilling. My dad is a huge griller. He grills all the time. And he is really good at it. So you would think that his first born (and only) son would be an accomplished griller by now as well. But you would be wrong. I have only grilled once by myself. I was out in Michigan when Missy and I were dating. I was the only male in the house and the womenfolk wanted some chicken grilled. So guess who had to do it. I spent the whole time worrying about burning it and blowing my cover as an expert griller (I was still in the "try to impress Missy" stage). So I had the grill on low heat at the first sign of blackness on the chicken skin, I pulled the meat. We went inside where Missy's sister Mel now famously said, "Um, I can't cut my chicken." No one could. The jig was up. So we all put our chicken in the microwave and I got the "thanks for trying, faker" smile from everyone.

Since then and especially since buying our house, I have wanted to grill. I have done research. I have read reviews. I have spoken to friends who grill. I have spoken to the Dalai Lama of grilling, my father. But I couldn't pull the trigger. Finally, my in-laws all chipped in for my birthday and gave me money towards a grill (THANK YOU DOMSTEN, GRETZINGER FAMILIES!!!!!!!). So after more research and countless scouting missions to Home Depot, I finally got a grill. A Weber. A small Weber.

We tried it out last week for the first time. Something simple. Burgers. And man, were they good. Since then I have been hooked. I have only done it twice since that first time but I can't wait to try it again. So far, no fireballs. No food poisoning. Both good signs.

At 31, now married for almost 5 years, father of one, I can now say that I have stepped into manhood. I have mowed my own lawn and grilled my own burger.

Just a note on the pics. NO, I am not grilling in the street. There is an alley behind our house which is where I do my grilling (with my trusty companion, Blue Moon beer). The alternative would be to do it on the front porch. But since it is brand new and made of wood (the porch, not the grill), I have chosen to stay out back. If you are ever in the area and want a tasty burger, stop on by. We can play Rock Band too!