Brown And Pink Eyes

by Nic Olson

I think I’ve got pink eye. Three wives and two mothers told me so. Two of the wives were also the mothers. How many people diagnosed my pink eye? Like a riddle of the grandfather, father and son, except not riddling.

As a kid, pink eye was the worst disease of all time. When someone got it, they were shunned for weeks once they returned to school. I never actually saw what it looked like. Now I know it looks like you stayed up all night drinking, then smoked a j, then went chlorinated swimming, then poured hot sauce in it, them cried all day because of a lost girlfriend, plus some puss and goobers. I thought that if you made it past grade five without it you were in the clear, like the opposite of chicken pox, but not really.

I thought I left the horrible eye disease back in grade five along with pee crusted wind pants and midday boners. I thought I left it behind with dramatic situations, girls crying and getting mad, and people that lack self control. I thought I left pink eye behind with jealousy, bad decisions and the deadly peer pressure. I thought I left it behind with angst, money hunger and four square. But I didn’t. I didn’t leave any of these behind at all, especially the boners.

So there is really no difference between kids and adults except hygeine in some cases and tact in others. The things that make a kid a kid are still around when you’re not a kid, only less cute and magical, and more old and tiresome. What makes you an adult is not your age or how you act, it is a matter of selfishness and what you do with it. Every adult is the same, you see the differences in them when you see how much they like themselves. If I’m right, then I want to grow up to be an adult like an adult.

No, not an adult licking adults. Unless the money is good.

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