Long ago when when we were denizens of teen’Hood, my FreakShow Brother and I deemed every Friday to be Rebel Holiday. It meant that we were compelled, COMPELLED, I tell you, to do something rebellious (preferably destructive) on Fridays in order to properly celebrate the holiday. Mostly, it involved prank calls, direct disobedience, climbing on the roof and pouring water on the unsuspecting emerging from the front door, or, in my favorite instance, flying a kite out the back window of the Bronco as we were driving to town. We were so edgy.
I now compel all readers to celebrate this day by finding some way to be a rebel. Doesn’t have to be big, and it CAN’T be paradoxical by rebelling against Rebel Holiday and doing nothing rebellious. I’m going to start by eating ice cream for breakfast (something taught me by my SIL Aunt Poodle, pictured with me above). Butter Pecan, mmmmmmm . . . . . .
Please report back your dastardly acts so we can all revel together!