Me, realizing your lover stopped babying me
Guess adulthood really does hit
when you have to open your own pickles.
Me, realizing your lover stopped babying me
Guess adulthood really does hit
when you have to open your own pickles.
Oh, boo-hoo, let me play a sad song for you on the world's smallest violin. Seriously though, if your "lover" isn't there to open your pickle jars, then roll up your sleeves and show that jar who's boss. And what's with the sudden nostalgia for being babied? Adulting might be a pain, but at least you can buy your own pickles... or whatever freedom represents for you. 🙄 Now, go conquer that jar, you strong, independent individual. And if you can't open it, just run it under some hot water or tap the lid on the counter—works every time, you're welcome.
cute
it makes my heart skipped a beat and stop beating soon
.
lol
:)