25. I’m really immature.

I just got back from a friend’s birthday party. It was really just a bunch of us hanging out and doing what we’d normally do, except there were balloons and cake involved.
It was lots of fun; hours of singing and mindless television watching, eating a ridiculous amount of food (though managing to have a ridiculous amount of food left over), and as always, laughing till it hurt.

At the start of the day, though, we decided to decorate the place with streamers and balloons before the birthday girl got there, so three of us spent about an hour desperately trying to blow up cheap party balloons. It was somewhere within this hour that I realised how immature I was.

To give you an idea of what our conversation sounded like:

“I wanna blow the big one!”
“God! This is so hard!”
“The long one’s fun to blow!”

They didn’t mean it in an inappropriate way at all, but the words “That’s what she said” flew through my head at least thirty two times in that hour.

I feel like I ought to do something to make myself mature again.

I’m off to drink some coffee, read the paper and shake my fist at some kids.