Oops, I missed last week. :)
Today's word is: glue.
I'll admit it, I am a picky person. By that I don't mean picky in the figurative sense (although sure, I can be that too) but in the literal sense. I like picking things. Even as a kid, I was always that person who liked peeling off sunburned skin. Now, as a mother, I'm like one of those mother gorillas who go all over her children picking bugs off of them (except the main difference here is I don't eat what I remove from them). But I do pick at them all the time - their faces, fixing their hair, clipping their nails all the time, making sure every little thing is relatively neat and in place and nothing is hanging off. Pick, pick, pick.
I remember once as a child in elementary school, walking out of school. I couldn't have been any more than 7 or so years old. And I have a terrible memory, generally speaking, so when I have a memory as a younger child, one would have to assume it's something fairly important or pivotal. Well, for some reason, I remember seeing another student walking out of the school peeling glue off of her hands. I don't know if she was in art class (well, I hope so, I guess) or what the situation was, but she had glue ALLLL over her hands and she was so dutifully picking it off. I remember being so envious! Every so often, after that time, I would purposely put a little glue on my hands just so I could peel it off.
I'm not sure why this is, but I suppose glue doesn't just hold together, but it can also come apart if you try hard enough. I'd like to keep that literal and not figurative.
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