My inner child remains the same as I approach 36.

So, I was at the grocery store last weekend, doing my usual adult-ing—buying vegetables, avoiding the candy aisle, you know the drill. Just as I was about to check out, my inner child kicked in. I spotted a giant box of cereal shaped like a cartoon dinosaur. Without thinking, I grabbed it, plopped it in my cart, and felt the thrill of rebellion. I may be about to turn 36, but apparently the allure of sugar-coated cartoon characters still has me in a chokehold.
The cashier looked at me like I was about to throw a tantrum over having to wait in line. And honestly, I might have—if the cereal hadn’t been so distracting. As I wheeled out my prized dino cereal, I realized my fridge could be filled with organic kale, but my heart still hungers for retro childhood joy. Here I am, almost hitting my late 30s, prioritizing a breakfast that likely contains more sugar than a birthday cake! Guess we’ll just call my adult responsibilities “optional.”