“Scooter boy … SCOOT SCOOT” I yell as I trot across the living room, pumping my fist like I was asking a truck driver to honk their horn.

I bought myself an electric scooter. And with it I gave myself the moniker “Scooter Boy” who’s apparent catch phrase is “SCOOT SCOOT”. My wife and kids roll their eyes.

I’d been wanting a simple electric scooter for a while. For no other reason than it looked fun and I just wanted one. I don’t need it. Its not like I live in an area that is conducive to non-vehicle commuting. Not even to run up to the store to get a few things. Or a sandwich shop to get some lunch. I mean, I work from home for god sake. I don’t need to go anywhere.

I was having a particularly bad few days and gave in to the self-directed peer pressure to just get one. So I did. And I’m loving it. Is it a mid-life crisis badge of (dis)honor? Sure. But a mild one at least.