I ate a lot of bugs. Full of nutrients.
Anyway, one of the many disadvantages of this little problem is that I just never know when to
Last night my bro-in-law (16) was complaining that his knuckles were cracked. His mom, Brett (the brother) and I tried to convince to him to use Aquaphor, the greatest ointment known to man. He kept coming back with excuse after excuse why he didn't want to use it.
Normally I would've persisted. I'm no quitter.
But yesterday, something happened. Something inside of me died. I shrugged my shoulders and said, "Fine, have cracked knuckles," and then went on my merry way.
And you know what, it felt good. Dang good.
I tried it again during my daily lunch argument with Kembry.
"But I don't want that!"
I've tried everything. Everything. I have even broken down and become the short order cook I so adamantly swore I would not become.
Arguing with her: doesn't work.
Bargaining with her: psht, like bargaining with the devil.
Begging her: humiliating.
Ignoring her: loud.
Giving into her: BIG mistake.
So, I said, "Fine. But you'll be hungry."
And then I walked out of the kitchen. My heart was pounding. I broke out in a sweat. No sounds came from the kitchen. I could feel the shocked silence.
Verdict: she ate it.
Are my days as the pushy, loud, obnoxious know-it-all over?
*By used to, I mean as recently as Saturday. So, really, "used to" should be used loosely here. Very loose.