I refuse to be a grown up. Oh, I do grown up things, but usually always with a flair of eternal immaturity and twisted humor. I keep things fun, keep people on their toes, and in some cases, make them wonder why they came out in public with me.
Today, as I did my laundry, I came to the realization that even my choice in attire is a bit on the kid-side. After looking through the shirts I was hanging, I saw that I have very few ‘plain’ shirts. Even fewer ‘dress’ shirts and blouses.
I do, however, have an over abundance of shirts sporting cartoon-ish things. Super heroes, cartoon characters, etc.
Iron Man, Deadpool (several of those) The Legend of Zelda, a couple Cowboy Bebop, Gir…or shirts that have catchy sayings on them, my personal favorite being ‘Got Voodoo?’.
Then I look around my office, my workspace, MY ROOM…toys…I have silly little toys everywhere. And the weird thing is, I keep buying more. I box old ones up to display the new. Hell, I have a whole box of Invader Zim toys.
Being a grown up is hard, and I refuse to do it. Sure, I am responsible…well…sort of. My bills get paid, my butt gets washed, the dishes and laundry get done.
But everything else is a free-for-all for my rampant silliness.