(5 Year-Old-Me made her first blog appearance in this blog from years ago. It should be mentioned that the intervening years have served to change the "that" that 5YOM wants, and to give my 5 year old self a potty mouth. Also, my internal dialogue has gotten rather petty.)
25 Year-Old-Me: I know, but you can't have it.
5YOM: Go to hell. I want that.
25YOM: Look, it doesn't make sense! Do you have any idea how badly that could turn out?
5YOM: Chicken.
25YOM: Infant!
...
5YOM: But I'd be happy.
25YOM: It's not that simple. Sure you'd be deliriously happy but if you look at it long term--"
5YOM (Interrupting): Blah blah blah blah. Live a little. It's not a bad idea, it's just what your mother would call a smart decision.
25YOM: Exactly! And that's what growing up and become a better person is all about, learning to make better decisions instead of easy ones.
5YOM: So growing up is learning to be unhappy/discontented most of the time and to work really hard while waiting for some future time of possibly greater happiness that may or may not ever arrive?
25YOM: Exactly!
5YOM: Call me crazy, but that's not just not smart, that's a dumb idea.
25YOM: You don't understand!
5YOM: Neither do you. You're just saying all that stuff to sound grown up and 'cause you think you should. Hypocrite. Now let's go get what we want.
25YOM: We can't.
5YOM: Why the #@&$ not?
25YOM: For all the reasons we've talked about a million times.
5YOM: You're an idiot.
25YOM: You're a crybaby.
5YOM: Buzz kill
25YOM: Clown
TOGETHER: Jerk!!
(silence)
5YOM: I want that.
2 comments:
Fair enough.
Sounds like you should morph into your battle form.
Or something.
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