
I think all grown-ups have at least one thing that triggers their inner brat: the voice inside your head that says, “I don’t wanna! You can’t make me! Waaaaaahhhh!.” I’ve got several, actually, but one of my very worst:
The dentist.
See, I had to go to the dentist this morning, and I also had to take my kids to their dentist. And my dentist wants me to buy a very expensive mouth guard that my insurance doesn’t cover, and his argument is cogent but my inner brat is just furious. Of course, even normal things at the dentist’s office get her riled up:
Hygienist: How often are you flossing?
Me: Intermittently.
Inner Brat: Yeah like teeth are so important. I’m going to floss even less now just because you brought it up so nyanyananyanyah. And I’m totally having hot coffee and gummi bears right after you paint on that fluoride stuff, maybe a big bowl of super crunchy chips, just to spite you.
Thankfully, there’s a grown-up person encasing that inner brat but still. The thoughts are there.
Anyhow, while lying back in the dentist’s chair, I realized that I hadn’t posted a writing prompt yet this morning, and that this little, snotty voice inside me would make an excellent narrator. Perhaps a conversation between the rational adult and the inner brat.
Riff on that. See where it takes you.