For my seventh birthday I had a bouncy castle. It was soo much fun that I wish I could just rent one now. But that is impossible. I am a teenager now. Teenagers are way too cool to want anything like a bouncy castle. Or a cotton candy machine. Or blue ice cream for that matter.
Because age, that little number that comes up when you subtract your date of birth from today’s date is what defines who we are and what we’re allowed to like or dislike.
Or is it?
