You know what sucks? Paper cuts. And single socks. Also world hunger, orphans, and uncontrolled wildfires. But today we will mainly be talking about paper cuts because I have one. I also have several match-less socks but that doesn’t bother me too much because I really don’t have a problem wearing one sock with a blue toe and another with a purple toe. In fact, I kind of like it. What can I say? I’m adorably quirky. Oh, you want some evidence? Try this on for size: when I was a kid I my favorite sandwiches were peanut butter and butter.
Yeah, I said butter.
I can’t imagine that I came up with that combination on my own, and given my childhood aversion to touching actual food, I’ll have to credit my mother with coming up with that bizarre pairing. I hope she never tells tips my kids off to this abomination on Wonderbread, because then I will have no choice but to offer my children vomit between two slices of bread. There is no way I am capable of spreading delicious peanut butter on one slice of bread and delicious butter on another, slapping them together on a plate and serving it to people I will presumably love. Thinking about it now makes me feel kind of puke-y, although I distinctly remember thinking at the time that it was the bomb.
Of course this is the same woman who loves to tell me that my favorite baby food was liverwurst and cottage cheese, pureed in the blender. I may have been a gifted baby, but I’m pretty sure I wasn’t advanced enough to swipe the Cheerios off of my high chair tray while clearly enunciating my desire for liverwurst, banging my soft plastic spork on the tables and demanding “brain food.” Nice try, Mom. I maintain that my favorite baby foods were mashed bananas and zwieback biscuits, which sound normal and something I would maybe even eat today.
Paper cuts. I have one and it hurts.