I was a difficult child as far as social skills were concerned. I never understood why I couldn’t sit on the table and eat instead of the uncomfortable chairs at a restaurant, Why I couldn’t ask someone who was being mean to just shut up even if he/she were older by several years. Sometimes, the little girl in me still struggles to embrace the culture of what I feel is sometimes just pretentious. If I say I was raised by a pack of wolves, it wouldn’t be far from the truth. My father taught me to always voice my opinions, My mother taught me that sometimes adults are wrong too except her, ofcourse. My sister taught me to chill instead of worrying for matters that won’t really matter in a few days. So it’s really their fault. Recently during my pediatric postings I gave a massive yawn. When you get to embrace your bed only for 2-3 hours, A massive yawn doesn’t surprise anyone. One of the receptionists, with her perfect hair(I don’t blame her, it’s the lack of sleep and the greed eyed monster talking) gave a disapproving nod and gestured not in I-love-you-and-that’s-why-I’m-concerned way, but more in a The-massive-amount-of-air-you-sucked-up-messed-up-my-perfect-hair way to try to keep it down. I don’t think anyone heard my yawn amidst wailing and howling babies who were easily hundreds in number. This reminded me of the restaurants that have more pieces of cutlery than the number of dishes in the menu. Why? Why? WHY? What happened to the time when chewing with your mouth closed was the only rule that needed to be followed at the restaurant? When random family members ask me when I’m getting married to a random stranger, Why is it rude to be honest and say “Hahah you wish! Not going to happen.” I can be polite but everyone has a threshold level and mine happens to be crossed way too often. So if you see someone having a slice of pizza on your sidewalk with her legs all over the place and yawning – Don’t ask her to behave! Come and share a slice if you want.