As a kid, I always tried on my older sister's glasses and thought how cool it would be to get some of my own.

As an adult, I'm pretty blind, and although I tell people this, they don't believe me until they've tried on my glasses.

As a kid, I had recurring nightmares about bullies who would break into my room and break my unicorn figurine's horn.

As an adult, I have recurring nightmares about going to work.

As a kid, my mom told me no one would be sick or get hurt in heaven. I asked her if that meant no one would have hiccups again.

As an adult, people give me strange looks when I have hiccups, as it sounds like I am half-pterodactyl.

As a kid, my older sister snapped me with towels all the time.

As an adult, I still haven't figured out how to do it as painfully as my eleven-year-old sister did it to me.

As a kid, I was bad at brushing and flossing, so my dentist had me draw a smiley face on the calendar on days that I did both.

As an adult, I'm still obsessed with dental hygiene and my dentist still shows my calendar to other struggling kids and tells me about it every time I visit.