A letter to my younger self: Jocelyn will never go out with you (and other advice)

A letter to my younger self: Jocelyn will never go out with you (and other advice)

Dear Young Tim,

Hello, handsome young lad. This is me – that is to say, you, writing to you from the future. It’s now 2014 and a lot has happened to us since I was your age. I wanted to talk about some of the things you’re planning to do over the next fifty years. First, don’t worry so much. You always were a bit of a worrywart. There will be some minor hiccups along your way – and a few doozies – but in the end, you’ll stumble through with more than a quarter of your dignity intact. Here’s some advice to make your journey to the year 2014 a little less bumpy. You’ll thank me later.

When you’re three years old, our mom and dad are going to dress you up as a Little Bo Peep for Halloween – complete with the curly-haired wig. Don’t let them. This humiliation will cause you to question your sexual orientation and sour you on barnyard animals for years. Insist on going as a tiger or maybe a ladybug. Just say No to Bo!

In seventh grade, you’re going to make one of the most eye-opening discoveries of our young life: Our older brother Ted’s secret stash of Playboy magazines. But here’s the thing: I strongly advise you NOT to put the May 1967 issue in your underwear drawer – the one mom restocks every week after doing the laundry. For God’s sake, at least put a post-it note on the magazine cover that says “This belongs to my brother Ted” so he takes the fall.

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