|Nice one universe|
The FUCK!! Some asshole TOOK MY 75 CENTS while I was gone. Bastard!! I hope his Almond Joy gives him cancer!
Seconds later of course the "asshole" in question reappeared after a quick restroom break to repay the 75 cents he was forced to use since it was tying up the vending machine.
It's moments like these when I literally shake my head at what a dick I am. At the risk of sounding cocky I honestly can't think of another human being I know whose life I feel is better than my own. Whose life I "envy". And yet, I whine. Often. And about the dumbest shit. Most of the whining is in my head but sometimes it leaks out. The best thing I've learned to do is catch it early before it earns me a swift kick to the crotch.
I've created a shortcut to intervene on my own behalf. It's kind of a mantra. I'll quietly say to myself, "I have two boys". This cheers me up in an instant, every time, and reminds me that maybe I don't have things so bad. I can't just say it though, I have to sit for a second and really wrap my head around that fact, "Two boys! Two perfect little boys! Yeah!! Holy crap how did I get so lucky?"
It's not that I've always known that two little boys was what I wanted. In fact I probably would have been as happy with a daughter, or even two, but such a thing is just impossible to imagine now. I think this is because having two sons became exactly what I've always wanted, after it happened.
I think this happens a lot in parenthood. What you get ends up being exactly what you've wanted. This is why parents like their kids so much more than anyone else's kids. Everything about my little boys is perfect, even their supposed "flaws". They are the funniest, sweetest, smartest, and cutest kids right down to Liam's goofy teeth and Finn's ridiculously huge head. I honestly wouldn't change a thing.