I’ve had to make a lot of grownup decisions lately.
Like, deciding that I can’t eat cookies and cake and chocolate peanut butter swirl bread three times a day, every day. Well, I could, but I probably wouldn’t like it after a while.
Or deciding to watch my husband’s intramural basketball game in a gym that smelled like 100 smelly, sweaty guys (because there were about 100 smelly, sweaty guys there) watching a sport I know nothing about, when I could have been watching “The Bachelor” at home. But it was important to him to have me there, and therefore, the decision was easy to make.1