We’re all grown adults here, right? I mean except for the random lil’un that may run across this page while looking for who in the hell KNOWS what (past searches from randoms include things like “Clown Tits”)- but for the most part, we’re all adults. Most of us with children, some of us without. Most of us carrying more responsibilities than we’d like to, but have accepted that it is part of life and adulthood. We have jobs (whether they be in the workforce or at home raising offspring), we have bills and stress and all of the other lovely things that come along with the title of “adult.”
Just when you think the pile can’t be stacked any higher- here come the expectations. From yourself, from others- from who the hell knows what; things are expected of you, and NOT expected of you. Things that you’re supposed to “grow out of”, or be “too old for” – and while to the general public you might go along with it, joke that it’s for kids- secretly, in the privacy of your own home- you still LOVE IT.
We all have a list. We may not have made the list, but we know what the list is in our heads of the things we loved as a kid that we know might make us seem childish or immature or ridiculous for still loving or doing as a full grown self-sufficient human being- but we do it anyway. Maybe we won’t ever TELL anyone that we do, but we do.
Guilty childhood pleasures living strong. Old habits die hard, y’all. That saying is so frequently used for a reason!
I’ve written about peeing myself, pooping my pants (as an adult), booger picking (and licking), puking, that terrible tale of a lost condom, and being so constipated I nearly exploded– so let’s be real- I’m not ashamed to give you my list. Chances are, yours is nearly the same. DON’T LIE!
I have many, because, well, I’m not really mature at all and I don’t try to hide it- so I have narrowed it down to 5. In no particular order, because I’m too tired on a Friday for any kind of order. These are the things I love that I should have grown out of, oh…. 15 years ago at LEAST? Ah well! C’est la Vie!
1. Sugary Cavity Inducing Cereal-o-death.
Three words: Fruity.Fucking.Pebbles or even Cinnamon.Toast.Crunch
I didn’t know how good I had it as a kid. I don’t feed my spawn that junk- yeah, the same junk I ate as a kid only with a hell of a lot less sugar and made with whole grain- they still can’t have it.
You get plain Cheerios! BOOSH!
Occasionally I will buy a box of my childhood love, wait until the kids are tucked into bed and snoring away, tear that bitch open and hope that my loud ass munching (you just can’t eat cavity-causers quietly) doesn’t alert the children to my dastardly deed.
2. HANSON. But if we’re broadening the term: Boy Bands.
Yeah that’s right, hate on haters! At least my gushing complete obsession and insistence that I would one day marry a Hanson brother has long since faded in favor of reality, but you best believe if they come in concert I’m going to go (and drink my ass off like the adult I am) and squeal like the psycho I once was. And if I happen to hear some BSB, NKOTB, some weird mish mosh of the two or some nasally N’Sync come on the radio, it’s getting blasted. I don’t care who’s looking.
And don’t even fucking TALK to me about One Direction. Ok, talk to me.. they’re growing on me- this must end.
I don’t care how old I am, how low my boobs hang, or if I start referring to little kids as “whipper-snappers”- my love for all things Disney will NEVER FADE. I will watch the movies until I know every single line- and I will break out into song at the most random and often inappropriate times (“IT’S THE CIRCLE OF LIIIIIFE”). And you can bet your sweet ass I’ll be visiting the theme parks and having MORE fun than my kids- ’cause you’re only as old as you feel.
Yes, I’m a lady. Or at least I have lady parts- but from the moment I learned to belch at my 6th grade birthday party (however the hell old that was, I don’t even know)- I fell in love. The age I am doesn’t matter to me, if I have a belch, I’m gonna let it out, and it’s still hysterical.
5. Kids shows
They make me completely batshit crazy. I hate absolutely everything about the crap my kids watch on a daily basis (minus Disney movies) and if I didn’t love my TV so much (and had I not paid so much for it), I would go all hulk-smash on it…. until the kids go to bed- and I’m STILL watching their f’ing shows, and while they aren’t looking- LIKING THEM. For shame. I also still love the shit I watched as a kid, but it’s harder to come by these days.
Here’s what becoming an adult doesn’t HAVE to mean though: growing up. Sure, there’s a level of maturity we should all have about ourselves, but never so much that we lose the ability to have FUN, to be a kid at heart.
I will always be- and I don’t care what anyone has to say about it.
Person on tv: Age is just a number! 10yo: Yeah, a number that pulls you closer to death.
Party animal over here pic.twitter.com/OVpKPuu4Yc
Proving to my kids that they ARE Friends goo.gl/fb/QbSSNp
Writing my next book Me: My period inspired a whole new chapter! Husband: Your lack of period inspired a whole book... Me: pic.twitter.com/fpNHwnYeAF
The card my kid made me at school. I truly don't know why I expected anything different 😂😂 pic.twitter.com/T7nai0ycqS
Valentine's Day before 4pm and I'm already putting on pajamas because my uterus is bloated to the size of a Buick and erupting like Mount Vesuvius so I guess you could say I'm feeling PRETTY romantic.