A Whole Child Ago

My mom still thinks I’m 12. I told her I’m 32. She said I must’ve been born in a dumpster.

He said he saw me at the mall 20 years ago. I said I was wearing a fanny pack and a mullet.

She claims we went to the same school. I said I was in the 8th grade and she was in the 2nd grade and also a toddler.

My brother said I used to be cool. I said I used to be cool before I turned into a greasy meatball.

She said I used to ride a bike. I said I used to ride a bike before I started riding a bike to the gym.

He said I was once funny. I said I was funny before I became a walking inside joke.

She said I used to be popular. I said I was popular before I became the guy who yelled at the vending machine.

He said I used to be good at math. I said I was good at math before I started doing math in my head while drunk.

My mom said I used to be cute. I said I was cute before I started eating pizza for breakfast.

He said I used to be a good dancer. I said I was a good dancer before I turned into a walking Jell-O shot.

She said I used to be smart. I said I was smart before I started texting in class and got a D.

My dad said I used to be a good listener. I said I was a good listener before I started listening to my own voice and it got annoying.

He said I used to be funny. I said I was funny before I became the guy who laughs at his own jokes and no one else.

She said I used to be chill. I said I was chill before I started yelling at the microwave and it yelled back.

My brother said I used to be cool. I said I was cool before I became the guy who wore socks with sandals and didn’t care.

She said I used to be a good student. I said I was a good student before I started getting detention for drawing on the desks.

He said I used to be friendly. I said I was friendly before I started being the guy who talked to himself in the hallway.

My mom said I used to be tidy. I said I was tidy before I started eating cereal out of the box and didn’t care.