Those are the days I look at my life and wonder how I got where I am. I still remember standing in front of my own mom and trying to stifle a yawn while thinking she was positively the most boring person in the entire world.
She got more interesting the older I became. Weird how that works, right?
But my kids? They just look at me like I never knew what cool meant. Like I never listen to the hottest music or watch the newest movies. Like I’ve never done anything fun or said anything interesting. It’s like they think I live in a dungeon and that I am comprised of recycled cardboard.
I really never thought that by gestating and bringing forth children into the world I would be giving birth to my own boring status.
Kids have sucked the interesting out of my life. Or so they want to think.
I’m convinced if my kids knew more about me, they’d be less inclined to nod off to sleep whenever I try talking to them as though I were an actual human being. I just want to stomp my feet and shout, “I’m odd! I’m interesting! I’m unique!”
But it’s worth a shot.
Here are a few things I could tell them. Then again, they probably wouldn’t stop rolling their eyes long enough to pay attention.
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I was kicked in the face by a horse when I was 11. 1 of 10I was 11 and not nearly as smart then as I am now and walked behind a skittish stallion. I survived but I walked around with the imprint of an entire horse shoe on my face for weeks.
I have one single perfect Elf ear. 2 of 10In fact, I'm pretty sure if I shaved my head bald, lopped off a few fingers and wore that outfit I would look exactly nothing like that picture. But I still have the Elf ear.
I choose Worf. 3 of 10I would pick Worf over Picard over Kirk over all of Star Wars any day. I would however pay money to see Worf go toe to toe with Chewbacca. I like them big and hairy, I guess.
My dad chased my boyfriend down the street when he was wearing nothing but underwear. 4 of 10I was young and stupid and my dad was MAD. He tore out of the house wearing nothing but some tighty-whitey's, shaking his fist at my poor boyfriend and chased him down the city block. I was grounded for life and I never saw nor spoke to my beau again. I suppose it wasn't meant to be.
I am She-Ra. 5 of 10Or at least I thought I was when I was younger. I had every intention of growing up to be exactly like her. I'm still convinced that if I were a cartoon and had a breast plate, we'd be twinsies.
I’ve embraced the dark side. 6 of 10I don't know how it happened but after 35 years of thinking that beets taste like red dirt, I've acquired a taste for them. I love them. I could eat all the beets everywhere. And happily poop purple forever. TMI?
This one time, I could do a REALLY cool party trick. 7 of 10Before injuring my back I used to be able to put my feet behind my head and scooch across the floor on my bum cheeks. It was awesome at parties and probably one of the reasons my husband married me. Ahem.
I once got wedged in a booth of a McDonald’s restaurant. 8 of 10I weighed almost 250 pounds, was pregnant with my third child and stuck in a McDonald's booth while my husband tried hard not laugh. He lubed me out with packs of ketchup after the manager offered to unbolt the table from the floor. I can still feel that table pressing against my belly and the flush of embarrassment lick at my face when I think about it.
I’m a bit of a hypocrite. 9 of 10I swore I'd never try and do a slide show in my life and yet here we are. And you know what? It totally wasn't as hard or as horrible as I thought it would be. Don't judge me too harshly.
My first job was delivering papers. 10 of 10I was 11. I had to deliver 6 papers Mon-Fri and 14 on Sunday. It was the smallest route in the entire city. And I really thought my job was hard. If only I knew.