When Morgan and I were young, we marveled at adults. They always had their stuff together and knew everything. Well, imagine our surprise when we become adults ourselves and realized it was all just a hoax. Adults don’t have their stuff together… we’re just really good at pretending we do!
Realistically, though, our lives are fairly well sorted. We have good friends, good jobs, and a roofs over our heads. So we have adapted a little mantra to remind ourselves of this when we fall into the black hole of whiny complaining: “(sigh) adult problems”. This effectively captures such things as:
- Washing our sheets (please, please tell me you are not in that 25% who only washes their sheets once a month… UGH!)
- Getting up early everyday to go to work, and realizing this will continue (everyday) for the next 30+ years
- Having to bite your tongue when your roommate/partner/spouse mayyybe does something slightly annoying (keeping the peace = adult problems)
- Balancing diet and exercise, since we can no longer eat a whole row of Oreo cookies after school without terrible side effects
Really, anything that complains about something that you should really be thankful for. Here is a recent adult problem of mine: my husband being angry with me for cutting myself on our food processor blade while making homemade laundry detergent. Then requesting that he use manuka honey under the bandage instead of Polysporin. Phew, that did not go over well… especially since I laughed at his wound-dressing game face.
This is my cut one day after applying honey. Closed. Not infected. No flaky skin.
We now use honey on all wounds, including Cam’s re-occurring sliding badge of honour (=toonie-sized scab that tends to re-open every time he has a ball game). Although he pokes fun at our new natural medicine cabinet, bottom-line is that he uses honey now, not Polysporin. Recent studies have indicated that bacteria do not become resistant to honey and that it helps protect skin cells as it heals. Pretty amazing. Sure, its a little bit goopy. Nothing a good ol’ bandaid can’t fix. And when you find honey on your sheets the next morning because you lost said bandaid? Well, my friends, that’s just an adult problem.