There are days when things don’t go my way. There are days that I am off and would be better if I started my morning all over again. There are days where I can’t pinpoint exactly what is wrong but it feels that way.
These are the days that I have a conversation with my eight-year-old self.
For some reason, imagining a conversation with a younger me has always been a great way to put a different spin on the situation. To see my current routine through the eyes of a child.
For instance, here is the latest one I had after a day of roasting coffee, grocery shopping and cleaning our vacation suite:
Me at 43: Today I went to the store to buy groceries for dinner.
Me at 8: With the magic card?
43: My debit, yes.
8: Did you buy Reece’s Pieces for dinner with the magic card?
43: Um, no. Tofu and broccoli.
8: . . . Tofu . . . Is that another word for Reece’s Pieces?
43: No. It’s a form of protein.
8: Like peanut butter . . .
43: Yes.
8: In Reece’s Pieces.
43: . . . Annnnnnd, then I cleaned the vacation suite.
8: To earn money for Reece’s Pieces.
43: Sure. Why not?
It became obvious that I have let down my 8-year-old self that dinners didn’t consist of any form of Reece’s Pieces. I guess I didn’t realize how obsessed I was with the candy as a child. Or perhaps the lesson learned here is that maybe my daily routine needs to incorporate a bit more impulsive behavior.
Either way, my eight-year-old self has decided not to become an adult at all. Especially since Reece’s Pieces becomes tofu.
