Me = REBEL.
My stubbornness made me as defiant to my peers *gasp* what are you doing?! as it did to my elders.
Yeah, I was one wild and crazy kid.
Can I get a holla for figuring out my hair?
Mom: What are you reading?
Mom: What magazines?
amy: Teen and Seventeen.
Mom: Let me look at those. *glances through* Where did you get these?
amy: The library.
Mom: You're 12. You don't need to read a magazine called Teen until you're a teenager and Seventeen until you're 17.
amy: YOU NEVER LET ME DO WHAT I WANT!!! *huffing* *foot stomping* *door slamming*
OK, I might not remember exactly what I said or exactly what my mom said, but I was pretty much banned from the magazine world except for Taste of Home, some Christian teen magazine [?], and something related to learning.
The thing is, I could get my grubby pre-teen paws on these illicit publications in the library AND my middle school BFF's older sister had subscriptions to Teen, Seventeen, and Cosmopolitan. [I cannot even tell you how much Cosmo taught me about sex--JAW DROPPING.]
Puh-lease. I will win this battle and fill my mind with inappropriateness, Mother. *eye roll*
In one issue of a magazine, there was a free sample of Caress body wash with a pouf. You just sent in the postcard [didn't even need a stamp] and waited a few weeks for your sample to arrive. I mailed the ad from my hidden copy immediately. FREE STUFF! The problem was, when it arrived how was I going to pass off how I came to have this fancy pouf and body wash?
I'm pretty sure it looked exactly like this.
I was so grown up. Need I remind you about the photo at the top of this post?
With my Caress body wash and pouf in the shower, I bathed in the glory of my defiance. I exfoliated all the good girl grit covering my body. I washed my way into age thirteen.
Because I was a rebel.
I was a peachy smelling, soft-skinned rebel.