Maxed Out Maturity

I am slightly to moderately positive my maturity level stopped developing at junior high. This is a dangerous admission since I have the task of raising two children.

I'm not one to make dramatic statements without the burden of logical proof (this may not be entirely true). So here are some possible facts.

There is not a time I don't find fart sounds absolutely hilarious. It doesn't matter where I am, even in the middle of a funeral, even while performing a complicated surgery (also a possible stretch) or beating someone up. If someone farts, I am laughing. Period.

Turns out my kids have inherited this gene, especially during many dinners of dried out meat. 

I may also overuse this Bitmoji:

Also, I can't resist doing inappropriate things all the time. A blank whiteboard is an unholy temptation. For anyone who knows the Birkman profile, this is called a high freedom score.

So when it comes time to make my daughter practice her unreadable cursive, there is no way I can give her boring sentences. I want her to stay engaged. I also happen to have advanced teaching skills. You know I am going to make those sentences dynamic. 

Then the inevitable happens -- the collision of high freedom and low maturity. 

This is unfortunately the result. If you can't read our writing, you can click to enlarge (like Fat Linda's butt).

I think now comes the time when everyone is rejoicing in the fact I never chose to pursue education as a career choice. A whole generation of kids could have stunted maturity. 

Unfortunately, this has been a lifelong struggle for me. I remember being at a friend's house in junior high when I made some reference to a yeast infection commercial. Her mother informed me that they don't talk like that in her house. I was chagrined. I was ashamed. I am the same girl today (as you may recall, my maturity stopped advancing about that time). 

Is it any wonder that every time my children are given a creative writing assignment it is littered with references to bodily functions and stories about Bad Brain Linda. Or of elephants that can't get drunk. 

If you happen to need help with your handwriting, please contact me. I know someone who can help. [Insert fart sound followed by giggles.]