...actually, that day comes this summer when I turn the dreaded twenty-two. Woof. But really, I currently tan the shit out of my skin and I eventually plan on popping out a whole litter of little bebes so I'm assuming I'm going to be one leathery-skinned, belly pooch-sporting mamajama in the future. I have every intention of being as vain as an OC housewife and hitting up the plastic surgeon until my forehead's expressionless and the other soccer moms talk shit about my fake boobies- BUT STILL. I'm sure I'll mourn my youth and wish I had taken more pictures to casually plant around my future house until my son's friends consider me a MILF.
"Look how happy Mommy looks here, Aviana*. This was a time when binge drinking throughout the week was acceptable..."
*Yeah, I named my hypothetical daughter already. Who are you to judge me?
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