I believe that for the majority of us, we have horror stories from our childhood. I know I do. Well, they aren't so much horrific as they are extremely embarrassing. For instance, when I was 11, my mother decided that I needed a new bra from Wal*Mart. As their weren't any dressing rooms vacant, we made the aisle into a make shift dressing room and I just tried it on over my shirt. I freaked out, and made more of a scene trying to make sure no one was looking. If I had just done what my mom said and not moved so much, it probably wouldn't have been that big of a deal. Looking back, it really didn't matter and it's funny now. I mean I had no boobs, I still don't, so why in the heck did I care. I wanted to be treated like an adult, and now that I am an "adult", I want to be taken care of like a child.
I think that we spend a few years as a child wanting to be an adult and treated like one, and then the rest of our lives trying to get over what happened to us in childhood and longing to be taken care of as child. Geez, what the heck is wrong with us? We are never fully satisfied, I suppose. Hmm, that reminds me, I like Koolaid.... as in childhood brought me to the thought of Koolaid... Grape flavor to be exact. Amazing!
My husband, as awesome as he is, decided to do the laundry yesterday and a whole sleuth of other errands. And, how do I repay him?? I sleep in until noon, and then get up and go to work. I didn't even make him lunch. I think that I need to get a handle on this adult thing, or I need to go to Wally World and pick out a new training bra to learn a valuable humility lesson. Either way, I suck. Meow.