have you ever been so angry you threw a hamburger in the face of your mother?

my mom likes to tell me this story over and over, maybe to humble me. but as a little girl i was in a hardee's restaurant and she cut my hamburger in half and i got so upset about my half hamburger i flipped out. i threw myself on the ground and yelled and kicked and screamed. i vaguely remember brown tiles and the flowery dress i was wearing and wailing at the tops of my lungs. then i black out. not literally but i can't remember another thing.

but i enjoy a good tantrum. every now and then i'll scream fucker repeatedly at the top of my lungs and kick and scream and cry. i figure if i got into more fights, i'd have less tantrums. now that i'm older, i keep my tantrums in private. small ones that last no more than 15 minutes. after i have thought things through and realize, "man, i'm a wanker" and just quit and calm down.

there is nothing wrong with denying responsibility for the afternoon and kicking dust into the face of your arch-nemisis. just to prove a point. which is that i didn't steal your damn coloured pencil. now leave me alone. 
¶ 1:54 PM |