We spend our entire childhood imagining how cool it would be to be “BIG”; to be able to drive a car, stay up late, drink alcohol or even engage in whatever activities grown-ups get up to late at night when they think we can’t hear them.
Then we grow up and we realize adulthood isn’t really about cruising, late night drunkfests or even enjoying a steady stream of orgasms. Being grown up is all about keeping your spouse happy, advancing your fortunes at work in order to keep your head above fiscal H2O, and if you’re lucky, maybe enjoying the occasional orgasm with a partner.
Let’s be honest, leaving childhood behind is a drag.
Kids get away with murder. Kids don’t even need to defend themselves when facing adult prosecution: “Go easy on him, dear. He’s just a kid. We can get another cat. And a new dishwasher.”
I just met a little guy who reminded me how perfect life can be before you start fearing the consequences of your actions. Let’s call my new best friend Timmy. (Originality is overrated, folks.)
Timmy rose from his evening slumber in a Niagara Falls hotel room on this particular morning and decided that, for him, a breakfast of champions consisted of the following:
- Three Red Bulls.
- Five pieces of licorice.
- An entire box of Entenmann’s mini-donuts.
(Don’t ask me where mom and dad were. From what I was able to gather from the kids, their parents were taking a shower together: “To save water. Because Canadians all do that.”)
As you can imagine, by Timmy’s standards this “meal” may have seemed appealing and even brilliant at the time, but his young body was unable to cash the check his mind had written….
And so young Timmy wheezed as I gathered his family’s luggage together and sorted it accordingly.
He groaned quietly as I loaded it onto my cart.
And when my work was done, he barfed all over the bell cart.
It was the greatest day of his life.
And truth be told, I found it pretty awesome as well.
His family, not so much.
The Best Line of the Week Award goes to Timmy’s sister, whom he affectionately refers to as “Iron Mouth: “MOM! TIMMY BARFED ALL OVER THE LUGGAGE AND NOW THE ENTIRE HOTEL SMELLS LIKE RED BULL AND DONUTS! CAN I HAVE HIS ROOM?”
It goes without saying I suppose, but I’ll say it anyway, my job may not always pay the bills, but it sure lets me reconnect with my inner child sometimes.
Have a happy Monday, folks!