I am an “old soul.” I suppose you are wondering how I determined this. It’s very simple: when I was a child, I found other children distasteful and immature. As an adult, I still find many children distasteful, but I did enjoy my own.

Here is what the world of children consists of:

Many children find farting using their hands in their armpits highly amusing. They do it in church and in doctor’s waiting rooms. If their mothers aren’t “old souls,” they encourage this adorable behavior in their offspring, thinking that it shows creativity and a unique sense of humor.

Children enjoy disgusting foods. When I was young, I loved things like twice baked potatoes and toast points dipped in tomato soup. Childish yet tasteful. My school fellows enjoyed dough wrapped weenies, jello with stuff floating in it, and twinkies. Ugh.

Kids have lots of energy. When I was under twelve, I channeled mine into ballet lessons and bike riding. Mature pursuits—but highly active. My cohorts in the neighborhood spent their silly afternoons yelling, chasing each other, administering “indian burns” and “noogies,” and throwing rocks.

As a youth, I liked reading books. I enjoyed the childhood classics, such as “Little Women” and “Nancy Drew.” Many of my fellow children collected inane comic books about Archie and his friends. They watched ridiculous cartoons about a goofy sailor named Popeye, who loved the ugliest woman in the world, named Olive, of all things. And what was so funny about that infernal coyote, anyway?

Worst of all, however, was the complete inability of my fellow children to have any opinions worth listening to. While I pondered the future of the planet and whether “stop, drop, and roll” would really work if my house caught on fire, other kids weighed in on their popsicle flavor preferences. If I asked a kid on the playground if all that pummeling really accomplished anything, I was met with a blank stare.

Really. Children. They love summer camp and bugs. They have no inhibitions. They love dirt. Even the most civilized among them will engage in nose picking and comparing scabs. No wonder they are so off-putting to us with more mature souls.

Yes, my soul is very mature. This is one way to put it. Or as my daughter once said, “Mom, you are a complete and total wuss.”

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