Proof That I Haven’t Quite Made It To Adulthood, According To My Mother
- I sent out an excited mass text to everyone in my cell phone when I got “High School Musical on Ice” tickets for Christmas.
- Talk radio makes me car sick.
- I proudly display my Kleenex content to anyone near me after a powerful nose blowing. If said content doesn’t fit within the snot color status quo, I immediately embark on a color naming journey which will only end when it is fitting for a paint swatch, i.e. “Diet Mountain Poo” or “New England Phlegm Chowdaah.”
- I unbutton my pants before I’m actually in the stall and steal all the free tampons from the bathrooms at fancy restaurants.
- My handwriting is too tall/fat/flourished to fit on wide ruled paper. I should also stop putting 14 exclamation points after sentences when one, or even a normal period, would suffice.
- Apparently calling every suburb “Beigeville McStripMall” is “bratty” and “immature” and I “really shouldn’t be so harsh on beige because everyone looks so nice in khakis.”
- I have dozens of pairs of cheap sunglasses because I frequently sit on them or leave them on the coffee shop counter while shamelessly batting my eyelashes at every single male barista. “And all male customers, too, for that matter.”
- It’s socially unacceptable to put ketchup on your steak. And potato chips. And plain bread (for ketchup sammies, obvi).
- I’m afraid to touch old people because I’m afraid I’ll “catch it.”
- I call my mother’s favorite cereal “Smart Shart” and mock her commitment to general health and wellness while I stuff my face with discarded pizza crusts from the night before.
– Kelsey McDonough thought she would have accomplished a bit more by age 25.