Ass-burningly grown-up

You know what burns my ass? Making one of those rubber-cement bouncy balls on my Trapper Keeper folder with my butt.

Did you ever do that? Not with your butt, I mean, but did you ever waste a lot of time making one of those disgusting balls that turn all gray because of your filthy child hands when you could have bought a bright, shiny red one for a quarter in the machine outside the grocery store?

Do you even remember playing with the gummy, gray rubber ball you made? No, of course you don't, because the fun was all in painting the folder with rubber cement and then rubbing it off repeatedly to form it into a big, lumpy ball.

You know what else was a stupid, childish thing to do? Not stepping on the green squares in the elementary school hallway because you might get Jimmy Germs. And then, when you did accidentally step on a square, it was also childish to touch the person next to you and say, "Jimmy Germs - no tradebacks." It would have been much smarter just to step on the squares every time, and then just wipe off all the germs on the library door at the end of the hallway.

Although, now that I think about it, you might have to check the rule books on that, because officially, that might not get rid of Jimmy Germs even though it makes sense. Does hand sanitizer kill Jimmy Germs? Could you use the librarian's?

You certainly don't want to be the kid who doesn't care if he gets Jimmy Germs. Because even though it sounds really grown-up and mature, everyone will know that you are just putting on airs because your mommy told you to be nice to the gross kid. You'll always revert, you'll always go back to caring about Jimmy Germs. There is not enough Lysol in the janitor's trash-can-on-wheels to disinfect the creepiness from those green tiles.

Unless you like it?
Do you?
Do you like those Jimmy Germs? You secretly step on them on purpose when you're in the hall by yourself after school or on your way to the bathroom, don't you?

What is it about those green squares? Is it your way of silently apologizing to Jimmy, cleansing your conscience for being so mean and so loud about being mean? Sure it is. Of course. It makes sense, you're a nice person, really, not someone who just goes around picking on other kids. Sometimes kids pick on you, too, and you know it feels bad. It's all about being a nice person who cares about other people's feelings.

But that's not really it, is it?

No, it's not. You love it. You roll around in those Jimmy Germs. You collect them, even putting your mouth over the water fountain because he does. You wish you could spray yourself with those slimy, booger balls of Jimmy Germs. You wipe them on your backpack, so you can save them for later when you're alone and you can lick the canvas. Do you save your Jimmy Germs with the boogers on the wall next to the bed where you sleep at Grandma's house?

I drew a picture of you. Want to see it?

Like it? I call it "Jimmy Germ Lover."

You can find it in the Guinness Book of World Records. It simply won "Awesomest ever," narrowly winning over the picture your ex best friend drew of your dog face after you decided Jimmy was your new best friend.

Ha!

...

Wonder what ever happened to ol' Germbag Jimmy? Wonder if he still eats his boogers. Wonder if he can still take constant abuse and never shed a tear.