There is this strange party phenomenon I often forget about during the academic months, only to be reminded when I return home for “adult” parties: the cheese plate. The next time you wonder whether you are worthy of the title “adult,” ask yourself this question: Will there be food at the party? If the answer is no, you are most likely not an adult. If the answer is yes, you might well be.
Last weekend I went to my friend’s birthday party, and it showed all the signs of adulthood. I did not wear my severely beaten-up metallic gold high-top Converse for once. I did not climb over a couch to enter the front door. I did not drink Red Bull Vodkas. And I did not sulk outside the window of Christian’s Pizza, dreaming of gluten but settling for the toppings.
You might think that is a surefire sign that I’m growing up, that I’ve matured. The fancy venue said it all. The girls were glammed in overly adorable dresses and the boys all wore button-down shirts. But with the mask of a Gatsby adulthood, we celebrated our childhood in typical collegiate rowdiness.
Did Peter Pan have it all figured out, then? Should we never grow up?
My answer is no. And I have one perfectly acceptable reason: the cheese plate.
For two years I have endured the adventures of college parties, and it’s been magical. But after my friend’s birthday celebration, my values shifted, if only minimally. To appreciate something as euphoric as a cheese plate at a party, you must first experience the chaotic ball-pit that is college. It is such a weirdly unique time in our lives. We are surrounded by incredibly intelligent group of young adults acting like incredibly sloppy children. When will that demographic ever exist again, in all its shame and glory?
We all have to grow up eventually. We take over the responsibility that our parents once endured and with that the childhood fades. Peter Pan’s shadow can only dance for so long before getting winded and needing a latte and two naps to get through the day. But there is something to look forward to people — do not fear! Peter Pan may have been wrong, but Wendy had it figured out. As long as humans continue serving cheese plates at parties, I think adulthood will be just fine.
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