Kids fall all the time. Most 30-something adults… don’t. Or if they do, it’s in a perfectly choreographed, loveably adorable, romantic-comedy meet-cute kinda way.
Or an “I’ve clearly had too much to drink and now must be escorted home before I ruin someone’s shoes” kinda way. That is not how I fall.
I fall spectacularly. And the other adults around me don’t know what to do. I’m the person who tumbles down two flights of (thankfully, carpeted) stairs on a first date.
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