Anarchy

The other day I was driving down the road, thinking about what I am sure was something very important. My thoughts were interrupted by a sticker I saw on the vehicle in front of me at a stop light. The sticker was a 12-inch high anarchy symbol.

This symbol always catches my eye because in my young teenagerhood I used to scribble it on anything that would stand still. Why? Because it was cool. There. I've admitted it.

The day came, however, when I realized what anarchy really meant and I couldn't imagine ever wanting to live that way. I like comfort, you see.

I was not yet old enough to drive when I abandoned this symbol as a mark of my own rebellion, so when I see it on a car I am forced to believe one of two things about the driver: They are either the type of adult that I do not want my children around, or they just think that anarchy is a cool idea in innocent theory.

Upon further examination, I realized that the car in front of me held the latter. A little below the sticker was another one. One that revealed that the driver is a part of a collegiate athletic team. Organized sports.

Not only that, but this student was driving a mini-van. Yes, that's right. He was a mini-van driving, collegiate athlete-ing, anarchist. Hmmm....Perhaps he has not found himself yet.

The Addict

"Hello, my name is Memphis and I am a Girl-Scout-Cookie-aholic."

"Hi, Memphis!"

"It all started when my mom agreed to be the cookie mom for my sister's Brownie troop. Hundreds of boxes lined the walls in our home every January. Thin Mints, Tag-a-Longs, Samoas...you name it, we had it. Those cookies called my name day and night. I would tear open boxes causing my mom to go nuts about having to buy another box. I would climb the shelves in the pantry, grab a box of chocolaty-minty Thin Mints, hide in a corner and devour as many as I could before my crunching gave me away. Then my mom would whisk me to the bathroom to wipe the goodness that had escaped off of my mouth and she would mutter something about my shirt being trash now. It only got worse from there. I know I'm an addict, but truth be told, I'm just not ready to give it up yet. Maybe I'll be back in March when cookie sales are over."

"Bye, Memphis!"