Life Is Getting Stranger.

It's been a weird day. I remember when I was a kid my mom would yell at me for wiping my dirty Cheetos fingers on my clothes. I was like "Well! Where else am I supposed to wipe them?" She suggested a paper towel or washing my hands, but that was ludicrous. So, I guess in some form of subconscious I started a habit of wiping my hands on my shirt/shorts. I still do it all the time. I actually have fiscal evidence of such a thing. I was doing my laundry just now, and noticed that a pair of shorts have horrible Cheetos stains. Right above my right pocket, where I always wipe my hands. Consequently, these are my favorite shorts and they wont be disposed of because of a stain. I just thought it was ironic that of all the grease, pizza, and other food-like substances I wipe on my shorts, the one thing I got in trouble for was the one that bit me in the ass. Thanks for nothing Jalapeno Cheddar Cheetos.
When I was a kid my mom used to hide all the good treats on a shelf that I was unable to reach (Theoretically speaking. I could get to them with the assistance of Josh or a chair.) It was always frustrating to me. I mean, I can understand now that I would dive into a box of Costco muffins and have them cleaned out before anybody knew they were there. But at the time, I just didn't get it. Today I did some grocery shopping, which is a laughable experience in itself. But I decided that I wanted Gushers, and since I am 23 now and can do whatever I want, I am buying some Gushers. I made my purchase and wasn't even to my car before I had the box open and was eating the first package. And in the 20 minute drive to my house, I consumed two more packages. I think my issue with inhaling Gushers is that they all stick together. You can't eat Gushers one at a time. You just have to eat it whole. There is no other choice. So, I do. When I got home, I thought about putting it on a top shelf where I can't reach it. Unfortunately, I am 6 foot 2 and I can reach anywhere in this house. So, I ate another pack and put them in the pantry. They'll be gone before midnight.
I used to make up excuses to not go to bed when I was a kid. I remember saying things like "Mom! we forgot to comb my hair! I can't go to bed yet!" or "I forgot to brush ALL of my teeth." I think I was fascinated with whatever happened after I was asleep. Maybe my parents turned into Terminator and went and fought crime. Maybe they went to Morpheus' lair and went into the Matrix. I don't know. I wish I knew. Now that I am older, I look for excuses to go to bed. "Sorry man, I gotta go. My grandma's bunions don't rub themselves." or "Oh! I would love to, unfortunately I can't. I have this group that goes and kicks all the hobos out of the park, I can't miss it." When in reality, I am just going home to go to bed. I don't function well when I am tired. Sorry about it. I think my mom drilled into my brain that nothing good happens after midnight, so be home at midnight for curfew. Which is entirely true. All of the stupidest decisions I've ever made have been made after midnight. So, once that time rolls around I know its just time to be in bed. Prison one time was enough for me.
In retrospect to all these things, maybe my mom was right about most things. Now that I am older, I guess I can see more of that. If you'll excuse me, I know where I hid the Gushers. I am gonna go eat a few.