BrokenJPG

A Copywriter’s Blog
Shut-up, Younger Me

The Wife is officially on vacation. She saves baby’s lives for a living, and therefore is about a trillion times more useful to humanity than I am, so I think she’s earned it. I wanted to mark the occasion by surprising her with dinner.

Before you get all excited about how I burned down the kitchen, succumbed to smoke inhalation, and had my unconscious form dragged to safety by the dog, let me tell you that everything went off without a hitch. (Well, the fire alarm went off once, but that happens if you shut the door too strongly, so it doesn’t count.)

No, what I wanted to share was part of the conversation that occurred with a friend of mine before I started cooking. We’ve known each other since we were four, or some similarly preposterous small number. Growing up, he was the friend I told everything to. Not my best friend, but my Best Friend.

Incidentally, he also has an excellent recipe for salmon, which he gave me over the phone.

“Oh and by the way” he told me afterward “we’ve now just officially had a phone conversation to exchange dinner recipes. Our 8-year old selves are laughing at us right now.”

I stood there for a second with my mouth open, fighting a sudden urge to make fart jokes and dig up some G.I. Joes to play with. I quickly tried to come up with some rationale for why 8-year old me would think knowing how to cook salmon was cool. But I’m not even sure 8-year old me liked salmon that much. Shit. I bet I would totally think I was a loser.

Then I realized that guy hadn’t even kissed a girl yet. So who cares what he thinks?

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go play Lego Star Wars before I get any more mature.

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