The measure of success

I am a success, a raging success. Not in the way one usually is a success, but I’m a success at growing up. I’m a grown up, a true grown up. So, it’s taken me 27 long years, but it’s better late than never. Proof of success: I managed to spend an entire evening with a certain person without having one hissy fit, without one tantrum, without one jealous rage, without one full-scale tantrum and without once stalking off with bitter parting words. I’m genuinely surprised at my recently acquired zen-like calm and attitude, and now I can brag: I’m a grown up. How many of you can say that for yourselves, huh?