It (Still) Takes a Village

 You see the title, we’ve all heard the phrase. “It takes a village” is an African idiom as old as time, but I think it’s idiotic that it only applies to children. Where did this “village” go? What happened to all the people to who used to pinch my cheeks and snitch on me to my mom? It was all good when I was a cute pup but now that doggy’s all grown up he has to hunt for his own kibble. I’ll stray away from the dramatics of the dog metaphor but after you reach a certain age, life gets rough (or ruff, hehe). Right around the time you grow out of your cuteness is when you need the village the most. You’re a preteen and your face is greasy, your voice is all over the place and you’re swatting boners away like a never-ending game of whack-a-mole. That’s when the village starts losing members…like a plague came through. Your adorable “kids say the darnedest things” moments become awkward silence and dads aren’t cool with you hanging out with their daughters unsupervised. Adults try to connect with you by reminiscing about their old days, which only embarrasses you and further pushes you away. Or they’re so scared or insecure to try to connect that they turn in to dicks. I don’t know, and I’m getting close to that 250 word count minimum that for some reason I imposed on The Relatable team.

The jizz of it is, long after we’re children, it STILL takes a village. However, the cool thing is that you can eventually hand pick your village. Pick your village wisely and remember the strong will outlast any plague.

 

P.s. – I thought the title and premise was sooo original before writing this and I googled “it still takes a village” about midway through and forced myself to try to finish. Really embracing the newly found credo, “Don’t Overthink Shit”. Boom. Godnight.

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