Sometimes, I’m really great at being an adult. I pay my bills on time, I eat fruits and vegetables, my apartment is clean, and I do my dishes the day that they get dirty. But, then there are the other times. The days when you make a batch of four cookies for dessert and your fiancee doesn’t eat his so you excitedly plot to eat his two cookies for breakfast all while promising yourself it’s an adult decision. The next morning when you walk into the kitchen and see the empty countertop devoid of leftover cookies and throw a full on hissyfit like the adult (read:five year old) that you are.
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