Diary of the unemployed housewife: Go suck a juicebox!

"Go suck a juicebox" is the quintessential insult to many of today's 10-year-olds. Oh, to be able to use (and find great pleasure in) juvenile vocabulary in our everyday lives as adults. Why at one point in our adolescence or young adulthood did we cease using phrases like "Go chew on a crayon" or "Ewwww! you have cooties" or the ever-famous "Sticks and stones..."?

A part of me really wishes we could employ these tactics as adults. I know I'm not the only one who wishes she could stick her tongue out at someone at least once a day, and could you imagine at your next office meeting licking your favorite cookie off the platter on the conference table and shouting out, "Dibs! That's mine!" This behavior could result in many dropped jaws, dry heaves and a possible disciplinary warning. You have to give kids credit, though; they are "keeping it real," and their broad use of imagination is like nothing they will ever experience again in their lives.

Sad, really, now that I think more about it; it's kind of like saying goodbye to an old friend when the juvenile imagination heads for the door. Now, don't get me wrong: not ALL juvenile humor dies with adolescence. I still know plenty of people who find flatulence to be a giggle-inducing, tears-in-your eyes laughfest. I personally can't say "downward dog" without snickering a little bit. I guess we just learn as adults that there is a time and place for such behavior, and we are molded by society's norms to fit in. Sigh, seems like a great waste of fun to me. I can think of several people I would love to shoot spitballs at or "accidentally" drop gum in their hair...I guess I will have to be content with, "Well, Judy I don't particularly like your tone" as opposed to "Shut up you crazy poo-poo head!" But wouldn't that be more amusing?

So, tomorrow when you are at work and the new dingbat addition to your office forgets to refill the paper in the copy machine, superglue his stapler to the desk and leave a couple boogies on his mouse!

Leaving you with yet more reason to mourn your childhood,

The Unemployed Housewife

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