Tuesday, February 18, 2014

Things I Miss As A Kid

My mother in law had a great quote - "Growing old is not for sissies."

I couldn't agree more, there are few things I really miss as a kid:

Buying clothes because you like what they look like, not whether or not they fit over your belly.

Running Everywhere - because you wanted to, not because you wanted to work your ass off.

  
Sleeping in on the weekends, not hearing, "Mom."  "Mom."  "Are you awake?"

Bath Tub Toys - I want something that vibrates underwater.  Not just candles around the tub.

SANTA!! - you all know that Christmas when you become that age when "underwear" is considered an acceptable gift.

Walking around the house naked - oh wait, I do that now.

Ice Cream - because my butt and my belly says it is not a good idea.

Pouting - now when I pout, my family just says, "Look, Mom's doing the duck face."

Birthday Cake - when you could bury your face in the icing and not care.  Now you complain that the Birthday Cake shot is going straight to your hips.

Little siblings you could beat up when they became annoying.  You cannot do that with your own children, who are annoying all. the. time.

Recess - wouldn't it be fun if our bosses came in and said, "That's it everyone, you need to go play outside."

Throwing a Temper Tantrum when I Don't Get My Way - now everyone in the house looks at me like, "well there she goes again," and walks away.
Playing Outside - you could spend all day outside doing nothing.  Now whenever you walk outside your yard says, "Well, are you going to do something here?"

Going on Vacation - mostly because someone else did all the packing.  Now we are the pack mule.

Chasing the Ice Cream Truck - oh the joy.  I wish they'd make a Wine Truck so all of us older women could experience that joy today.

Halloween Costumes - when I had someone ask me what my costume was and I wasn't wearing on, well, that kind of ruined it for me.

1.  My body, back when I actually pondered entering that wet T-shirt contest.  Actually thought about it.

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