🧊

Your inner child stopped talking. 🧒🤐

At first, it just sulked. Then silence. And now…
It’s locked itself in the fridge. Literally. 🧊🚪

It’s not crying. Not yelling. Just sitting there next to a jar of pickles, saying through the frost:
— “I’m not coming out until you stop turning life into a spreadsheet.” 🥒📊

You try to reason with it.
— “But I meditate! I give you space!”
— “Oh yeah? Then why did you scream at the cashier at Lidl for mixing up the tomatoes?” 🛒🍅😤

The fridge fogs up. The trauma chills. ❄️🫠

You sit on the floor, with a cup of tea, and speak softly to the door:
— “Okay. Maybe let’s just be here together. No therapy. No growth. No pressure to be happy.” ☕🚪

And then… click. 🔓

Your inner child comes out in oven mitts and says:
— “Let’s make waffles.” 🧇🧤

Moral of the story?
Don’t force your inner child to be an adult.
Sometimes it just wants to chill with ice cream and not be fixed. 🍦🧸