I don’t know whats up with me lately that I’ve been writing posts about becoming an adult and getting more in touch with my “inner child”. Because the actual title of this post is Kid Things I Thought I Outgrew but Actually Do Even More Now So, Boy, Was I Wrong but apparently that’s too long to be a title.
So here you have it, thing I thought I outgrew but actually do even more now:
I have to give credit to my 3rd grade teacher for making me practice my cursive handwriting. I’d say it was at its peak by age 12, then everything began to just get shittier and shittier.
Now, when I have to sign my name it comes out as a scribble which I can blame my parents for teaching me that its super easy to forge their scribble to get out of school and on my forgetfulness of the art of cursive. And also, I believe its an act of defiance against cursive. I mean really, how is it otherwise useful and WHY did I have to waste my peak years learning it?!
I’m not referring to the practice of one referring to friends or acquaintances as their “peeps.” That makes my ears bleed if I hear it and my eyes bleed if I read it.
I’m talking about yellow marshmallow chicks. Pink marshmallow bunnies. Devouring them, tearing their soft bodies with my jagged teeth each and every Passover ( Easter for my gentile friends). Its some unwritten rule that Jews have an Easter candy obsession. Cadbury Cream Eggs and Peeps are no exception.
And you can make them duel.
My parents always told me I used to play with my hair in the crib, when I nearly had no hair to play with! And guess what, as I type this post on one hand, guess what the other hand is doing? Yep, I’m “hair fidgeting”.
I twirl, swirl, braid, and manage to form giant knots that somehow I can untangle. I used to have super short hair in college and I still “hair fidgeted”. I think I do it when I’m stressed. And a baby can’t be stressed all that much. I probably just did it in the crib when my I was tired or hungry. Now that I’m an adult and stress is abundant, I’m still hair fidgeting more than over.
Relying on my Dad
I needed my dad as a kid for things like reaching the cereal from a high shelf and schelping me to school and stuff.
When I became a teenager I was sure he was the last person I needed because I knew everything. What teenager doesn’t? Now that I’m older and I have to do things like taxes and changing the my car’s oil , it’s clear that I know absolutely nothing and I’m back to needing his help again.
I guess the moral of the story is that we should just never grow up. I see nothing wrong with afternoon nap time and having absolutely no responsibilities. Who’s with me? What have you not outgrown?
And guess what, as a kid I kinda disliked bananas. Why? Long story I will save for a future post but it involved salmonella. Anyhow, I don’t kind it in baked good like these cookies. In fact, I think they take the cookie from being “really good” to “dayum thats a fucking good cookie!”
Its super easy!
1 bruised and ripe banana
1/2 cup sugar or sugar sub
1/2 c. butter, coconut butter, or canola oil
1/2 t. vanilla
2 flour (I used half coconut flour and half AP flour or you could use oatmeal)
1 t. baking soda
1/4 t. salt
1/2 c. chocolate chips
Blend bananas, add sugar, softened butter, egg and vanilla. Mix in dry ingredients and finally add chocolate chips. Cook around 10 min. at 350′—don’t overcook as these are best underdone.