dear 72-year-old self

Dear me, 43 years from now,

Please don't get a job at Walmart and then yell at moms whose children are riding carts rather precariously. For all you know they might be making a beeline for the bathroom and that child lying on his tummy on the bottom rack of the cart is just trying desperately to hold his pee. I know it's probably not safe. But we promise not to sue. Or maybe you'd rather get your wet floor sign and clean up the mess. Not me.

The end.

What would you like to tell your 72-year-old self?