At least once a month I'd ask my dad, "Dad, is there something wrong with me?"And his answer has never changed. "No, you're perfectly normal. It's everybody else that are weird." Sometimes, I think, that this is part of their mighty plan so I won't ever suspect my mental and intellectual handicap. He has also told me, "Pass or fail, I'll always be proud of you."
Today was one of those sad days that this above theory of mine seemed very credible. It's either that, or my whole family is a bit bonkers. Or that I'm just extremely blessed with an eccentric family that loves me incredibly.
Today was a sad day. Because I realised I wasn't as smart as at least I thought I was. In all honesty from my friends, I'm not smart at all. I'm neither book-smart, nor street-smart. Nor am I socially/relationally smart. Then what kind of 'smart' am I? (That was not a rhetorical question. It requires an answer.)
|The awkward moment you realise you are bat-poop crazy Brittany (and not Finn's girlfriend)|