I am twenty years old. This means I have been a human being on Planet Earth for twenty years. Biologically, that is my age. But if we were to to figure out ages of maturity and the age of the soul, I think my number would be far away from twenty.
See, I have the maturity of a four-year-old boy. I laugh at the dumbest jokes (Dad) and would rather be playing in the dirt than being at work (or really, anything.) Cartoons are favorite forms of entertainment and I love junk food shaped like a dinosaur.
My soul must be in the upper eighties. I love to knit, bake, and sit at home on a Friday night in my PJs and not socialize with peers my own age. That is just far too much effort and there is usually a Golden Girls marathon playing on Fridays.
Priorities people.
We're actually the same person. This is proof.
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