Today I finally became a full-grown, adult man.
No, not my bar-mitzvah.
Rather, I just achieved one of those milestones which separates the men from the boys. A rite of passage which means that I am now qualified to drink strong lager from the can, while standing around at a family barbecue with my shirt off, proudly displaying my beer belly.
Yea 'tis true. For today... (drum roll please)...
I took delivery of my first skip.
Thank you. Thank you.
Now I can stand in the pub, supping my ale, holding forth about cubic-yardages and regaling my fellow quaffers with the riveting tale of how I had to guide the skip-lorry driver down the narrow lane so that he didn't demolish any garden walls.
And once that is done we will finish our pints and go out hunting deer; driving them over cliffs with pointed sticks before howling at the moon and smearing the blood on our bodies...
Ah. It's good to be a bloke.