Remember those days? There was no such thing as fear when Dad was there, ready to catch you. I remember hurling myself out of trees into Dad's arms and I remember him picking me up and launching me waaaay up into the air, catching me with a thud and an ear to ear grin.
That thrill. Those were the days.
At what point in life does fear take over your sense of carelessness? When do you lose that childlike trust in the world and pick up a debilitating awareness of all the things that could go wrong. It's sad really. But alas I'm not here to bring you down.
My point about scary things is this; I've changed my mind about my adventuring. And by that I mean, I still haven't made a decision but I've added more options to the roster. And by that I mean, I really have no news at all.
I've realized I haven't made a decision because it's a little scary and Dad can't follow me around, ready with open arms. I've decided that I need to move somewhere, not visit a handful of places for a month or two. A commitment move, folks. That's what I'm thinking.
West, South, or overseas? I'm just gonna just have to jump in like this little girl.
In completely unrelated news, look at Buddy displaying extreme self-control as he stares at the last cookie.
And then he casually checked to see if I was watching...
Busted!
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