Dear Diary …
So for the most part … being a kid is great. OK, I should say “was” great, since I’m not a kid anymore. Granted, I still find the word “poop” to be hilarious, so I’m young at heart!
But you know what I mean, most of us fondly remember our childhood years. And we also jealously look at little kids today where “Oh man I had a big day,” means “I went to the pool in the morning and then I had a playdate in the afternoon with my friends, and then I had soccer practice.” And even still … at the end of that “big day,” I got to leave all my toys strewn about the entire living room and my Mommy and Daddy … the suckers … they had to clean it up while I sleep in a bed full of stuffed animals and dreamwd of sugar plums and butterflies. And that ended my “big day.”
But growing up wasn’t without challenges … we all had issues to overcome. Especially in our teenage years, where I think we can all agree the biggest problem was … judgers. People judging the way you looked, judging the things you did, judging the people you hung out with, etc. etc.
Everything was judged. And we can all agree … we didn’t enjoy that, right?
So why is it that as adults, we are still a bunch of judgers?
All of a sudden we live in a world where … heaven forbid … somebody have a different opinion or lifestyle than you do. And if they do … forget about it. The judgers are out in full force … well … judgin’.
Good example right now … 50 Shades of Grey. Some people … man they love that book. They watch the movie trailer this week … they are PUMPED.
But the judgers? “Oh I can’t BELIEVE that people would DARE act that way. Shame on them! That is soooo wrong and gross.”
Hey … I don’t judge you that your idea of fun is some sort of boring snoozefest-o-rama. I don’t even know what you like. Point is … doesn’t matter. You’re allowed to like what you like, and other people … GASP! … They allowed to like other things!
Not to say that I personally have a 50 Shades freaky deaky room in my basement or anything. Really my basement just has a beer fridge and a futon for guests … it’s a lovely finished basement … there’s no swing hanging from the ceiling. Point is … I don’t judge!
On simpler terms … no grown adult should ever say “Ewww” at someone else’s food. I like a medium rare steak. So delicious. And what I don’t need to hear is your judgemental, gray meat-loving self say “Ewwww … that’s bloody and gross!”
I am about to eat that. Don’t you try to ruin my food enjoyment … judger! You don’t like it? Fine … but keep it to yourself.
I don’t judge you when you put big, creamy hunks of cheesecake in your mouth that squirt around in your cheeks for you to enjoy. Clearly not for me, but I don’t think any less of you either if it’s for you.
What I’m getting at is … weren’t we supposed to grow out of this behavior? Honestly I think we’re worse now than we ever were as kids.
Don’t believe me? I got one word for you … politics. Yeah. The End.
Here’s the deal … we aren’t going to agree on everything. EVER. So accept that fact that maybe … just maybe … it’s OK to have a different opinion. Wow!
Think about it, all these movies where everybody has the same opinion … yeah they’re all like the Hunger Games where everything’s gray and sad and people shoot each other with arrows. That doesn’t exactly sound awesome.
Hmmmm … you know … Maybe different ideas ain’t so bad afterall.
Till next time Diary, I say goodbye.