by ROSIE WATERLAND
I realised something this afternoon. It was 4:30pm, and I was sitting on my bed in mismatched pyjamas eating cereal out of a Tupperware container because there was no clean bowls left. The mattress had no sheets because after finally washing them (two weeks ago), I was so exhausted I haven’t been able to bring myself to put them back on the bed since.
And as I looked over at my desk, where I have a Hello Kitty Pez dispenser collection in the place books would normally go, I realised: I am a lady-child.
Here is a list to prove it:
1. I’m 26 and not even close to interested in getting married, let alone having babies. That’s grown-up stuff. Ew.
2. I rent a tiny apartment with my BFF/flatmate, where the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills airs way more often than the news.
3. I still use the term ‘BFF’.
4. I don’t have a driver’s licence. As in, not even my Learner’s. Somehow the idea of concentrating on the road whilst also belting out Disney tunes seems like way too much responsibility.
5. I still listen to Disney tunes.
6. I taught my ten-year-old niece how to give cupcakes (not the baked kind).
7. When I heard a story about a friend of a friend who farts on her housemate’s loofah in the shower, I laughed for ten solid minutes.
Top Comments
Oh Rosanna.....I will be over to make your bed tonight XXXX
I've come back to this article at least three times now purely to laugh at the farts.
Seems I have a long way to go before I ever make it to ladyhood.