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.

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