Traditions, Boogers, and Rebellions

I’ve been working on an entry detailing my life this past year. 30 has changed me in a lot of ways, but the more I think about it the more I realize 30 hasn’t done squat to me. Sometimes this comes from close introspection, from lying on a blanket and looking at constellations I learned in the eleventh grade, contemplating my place in this wide, winding universe. Sometimes this comes from silly moments where I realize I am, in fact, still a child.

My family has had a tradition of waving goodbye. Whether the person leaving was on their way to work, school, or driving through the 48 contiguous United States, we lined up and waved to those leaving. We still do that, even when someone leaves from the host’s house. We file up and wave (later there was also dancing, but perhaps the less said about that, the better. Have you ever seen a 60 year old white man try to twerk his nonexistent butt at you?).

Today I waved my mother goodbye on her way to work. I’ve been under the weather lately, and you know how sometimes, while you’re sick, you can feel a booger moving in and out as you try to breathe around it? I removed it discreetly so I could continue, you know, breathing. My mother took time out of her day to lean out the window and say, “Throw that way. Don’t put it on my car.”

Of course I wasn’t going to put in on her car, I was going to throw it away. But being told not to brought out my inner three year old, and so I flicked said booger on her tires as I waved her away.

So apparently I’m the kind of 30 year old who wipes boogers on her mother’s car. I’m not sure any amount of editing or wordsmithing can make my upcoming “What I’ve Learned from 30” entry meaningful.