Last night, two of my co-workers and I noticed this cookbook all about recipes you can make in a 9x13 pan. We were all pretty excited about how good it looked.
While we were geeking out about the book, an 11-(or so)-year-old girl came up to the desk and was like, "Ooh, what book is it?"
My co-worker Acacia: "It's a cookbook."
Girl: " . . . oh."
And it hit me: grown-ups are boring.
I still brought the cookbook home with me, though.
Metapost: Pre-prandial comments of the week
15 hours ago
3 comments:
Word. I've had a few of these "damn, I AM a grownup" moments and they always freak me out.
We are boring. I've been spending my free time perusing cloth diaper sites and watching PBS drywall videos I checked out from our library - and enjoying it!
I was walking through IKEA and getting excited about desk lamps and somewhat intrigued by the possibility of throw pillows and I realized that 18 year old me would think I was pretty lame.
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