I never really had much interest in growing up, though it is admittingly useful. And if my age and my adolescence could reach a detente, I’d be satisfied. More to the point, my wife would be pleased…and suspicious, and also insist that I replace adolescence with immaturity. And I ramble. I repeat random trivia as if for the first time, which she indulges far more than I deserve. And when that moment of epiphany arrives, it arrives with exasperation and disappointment; though probably warranted.