Experience

I'm sitting in the laundry room.

It's hot. But that's how my clothes are getting dry, so I guess it's cool. Except for it's hot. Oh, never mind.

Dear future (potentially non-existent) child,

There will come a time in life when you will be carrying a large basket full of laundry down a flight of stairs and across a courtyard. It will most likely be night time and since you're in your pajamas, you will not feel like wearing your shoes (that an we might be in Arkansas so you probably don't have shoes... wow. I've been here too long when I make the anti-AR jokes myself). There will be many dark spots on the concrete. One might look like a roach and you could swear you saw it move in your periphery, though it is partially obstructed by your laundry basket. It may seem like the right decision to avoid that dark spot on the concrete to play it safe, just in case it is a roach. Be careful with this tactic, though, because it could be that your redirected foot, in attempting to miss the questionable (and extremely random) dark spot, will step on an actual roach. Do not feel ashamed to scream in the event that this happens. It is also completely acceptable to high tail it across the courtyard, pulling your knees up as you sprint. Even if they are ramming into the laundry basket. It doesn't look that stupid. I would know.

Love,

Your more experienced (though hopefully existent) mother.

Do you ever feel like you should pen notes full of miscellaneous treasures in order to create a legacy? I'm glad. Me too. Sometimes the wisdom is just soaring through my veins.

It's possible that it's just sugar in my arteries.