Jul 05, 2008 11:58
My birthday's in twenty-one days.
I don't want to turn twenty-two.
Can't I just turn two?
Isn't that allowed?
I'll turn two and then you can all feed me strained bananas and laugh when I stumble around like a drunk person because that's what you do to two year-olds. Come on, it'll be great! You can teach me to say really offensive things because that's what you do with two year-olds. I'll put purple satin bows in my sparsely grown tufts of hair because that's what I'd do to a two year-old. My art would be so much more profound if I were two years old. Certainly Ben Leatherman would write about marginally successful two year-old painting baby, wouldn't he?
It's final. In three weeks, I will turn into a giant baby.