Downhill Only Leaves You at the Bottom.

I just turned 30 a couple of weeks ago and someone told me, "It's all downhill from here." That's funny, because when I turned 18 someone else told me the same thing. Then just the other day a friend of mine turned 40 a few days ago and said the same thing.

Let's get our damn stories straight! When does the downhill arc really begin? With all of these conflicting ages, it started to piss me off. So I did a little research and I found out exactly when it all goes downhill. And lucky you, dear reader, I'll let you in on the secret. The downhill ride begins when you get potty trained.

Don't believe me? I'll explain it then. Before you're potty trained, you have a person waiting on you hand a foot to clothe, feed, and remove you from your own filth. It's all about you. You start crying, someone is there to find out what's wrong a fix it. Usually it takes a toy or a cookie. You hurt yourself, someone will be there to tell you it's ok. The whole world is yours for the taking.

And right when we have the world in the palm of our hands, what do we do? We start feeling cocky and independent. We make the mistake of wanting to do everything ourselves. Next thing you know, you're doing things for yourself and it feels pretty good. And when you want someone to do something for you, that's when the wheels of your plan fall off. They say, "Well you can do it our your own now."

All of a sudden, these people that were breaking their backs for you start ignoring you. They start expecting you to do things. You've got to start contributing. Welcome to the downhill ride...don't forget your helmet. (You can tell I'm a parent now, huh?)

The downhill ride seems like a ride you can't get off, right? Wrong! I'm working on a plan for that. From now on, I'm gonna stop being so independent. I'll stop trying to do everything for myself. Now I've got to make sure this plan is executed very slowly at first. Maybe I'll forget how to use a fork and spoon for a day, or forget how to drive. Then the concept of writing checks and paying bills will become foreign to me. Tying my shoes will flabbergast me next. Then I'll stop using words like 'flabbergast' and revert back to 'baba' and 'poopoo'.

Speaking of poopoo, that'll be the coup de grace of my plan. I'll just start crapping myself...a lot! And if someone makes the mistake of changing me, that's when I know I can take off life's helmet, and enjoy the ride back uphill.

Don't worry, I'll make sure to wave 'bye bye' as I pass you on your downhill slide.

-Y2