Learning to embrace your inner child

When you hear that phrase “your inner child”, I am pretty sure they mean something about finding wonder in butterflies and joy in simple things. You know, how a 3 year old will entertain themselves for hours with a cardboard box, that sort of thing.
Well, I have decided to quit fighting my inner child. I am 46 years old now, the mother of 3 adult and 1 nearly adult children. Apparently as a 46 year old mother of 4 I am required to be Mature, Sophisticated and stuff like that. Humor is supposed to be…y’know…Smart, wry, dry, and definitely should not involve bodily functions.

However, my inner child…is not 3 years old and finds wonder in butterflies and joy in cardboard boxes, except when I know something needs to be shipped somewhere and it’s just the right size. Unfortunately my inner child is male and 14 years old. Fart scenes in movies absolutely make me howl. Tears roll down my face and will giggle about it all day long. YouTube…may God richly bless the inventor of YouTube. Thanks to YouTube I can watch all my favorite movie scenes, over and over until I am incapacitated and breathless. Then I can introduce them to my children, who also howl and become breathless. Then my much more mentally mature husband will roll his eyes and mutter something about “I knew she was like this when I married her”

I know I am not the only middle aged woman like this. Right? Right?

Bueller?

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About rootietoot

I do what I can.
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