My inner responsible adult is still a 10-year old boy
At my desk reading through the prerequisite materials for some management training course they’ve signed me up for. I turn to a page on effective feedback and something called “one minute praising.” There’s a bunch of bullet point guidelines with the final bullet ending:
…or touch them in a way that makes clear you support them.
and I start giggling. I keep on giggling. I start coughing. I get water.
The thought that ran through my head when I read the bullet: “I didn’t realize this was a guide on improving the relationship with my balls.”
So, yeah. If you need me I’ll be over here pretending not to be a 10-year old boy.
