Balance. Either you have it, or you don't. Then again, maybe you're one of those people who, over the years, have taken one too many nose dives into the asphalt and learned to NOT over-complicate a situation by, you know, wearing shoes.
[sound of crickets chirping]
No? Okay. Perhaps you're one of THOSE people who stop, look back and are all like...WHOA!...did you see that?!? Then swear that it came straight out of the ground (whatever it was) grabbed you by the ankles and, you know, face meets asphalt, the end.
"Shouldn't you be wearing shoes?!?"
Me? I used to wear heels. Until, I had kids. Now, I have enough trouble strutting my stuff on the sidewalk (without falling down) or, maybe it's my bohemian roots, beginning show (among other, more grayish ones, I mean) and perhaps, I should just change my name to Agador Spartucus.
"Shoes make me fall down!"
Who knows? Since turning 40-something-or-another (closer to another, if you must know, DAMMIT!) maybe, I'm just getting back in tune with the earth (ahem!) like that hippie dude on Dual Survival and his...um...friend...who sort of remind me of an old married couple (cough!) with kids (cough, cough!) but, DAYUM if they don't make for entertaining television.
You know, I can be the minimalist and primitive skills expert, trained in counterbalanced living and suburban preparedness...like, yes, she's texting (AGAIN!) but, they ARE outside and what if one of them breaks an arm, or something, right?
Balance. It's ALL a matter of perspective. Sure, I can insist he pull his pants up (DAMMIT!) then again, this picture wouldn't be half as funny and, more importantly, just fade into yet another missed opportunity in increasing my "Break curfew again, bub and I'll show your girlfriend," arsenal, to boot!
Maybe THEN the Discovery Channel will give me my OWN show!
Aaaand, I will FINALLY get to go to an island!
Where no one cares who you are (or, aren't) where you are from (originally) and that you weigh more than what's on your driver's license (ahem) or, that you've worn white (AFTER Labor Day) with pink underwear (cough) and forgot to shave your legs, AGAIN!
Oh, but there IS a bed (dogless, catless, hairless and MATCHING pillows) a VERY large bathroom (with a double sink) with room service (a sun-kissed-20-something-or-another with, dark eyes and a wicked tan) giving you undivided attention and an endless supply of fruity cocktails...FOR FREE!
Aaaand maybe then (and ONLY then) will the tired, frustrated and gravity-challenged parents of the world (like me) truly unite and achieve GREATNESS!!!
"It's okay that you're driving in your pajamas, right?"
Except on Mondays, then ALL bets are off, DAMMIT!!!