Ever have one of those Nelly Olesen days? Those days where you would do just about anything to be her, feeling superior to everyone else and being mean to Laura Ingalls and faking your own paralysis? I know I do.
Sometimes I just want so much to hang out at my father Nels' (whom I was probably named after) general store and have my incredibly annoying mother Harriett overindulge me with candy as she practically comes busting out of the seams of her own corset and drives my father bat shit crazy. And then I just want to whip my perfectly placed Olesen ringlets -- yet another sign of blatant defiance -- around, and smirk at everyone who's less fortunate than me which, of course, means just about everyone.
The truth is, Nelly Olesen has gotten me through some really tough times, including colds, flus, and after school snacktimes, and has served as a reassuring reminder that I am, in fact, not the biggest brat in the entire world. I could always be worse... I could be Nelly Olesen.
And for all of that, I remain eternally grateful to Ms. O.
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