kids

The other night at the video store, one of our good customers's daughter was getting really excited about her 'my little pony' dvd. She was telling us that she categorises her pony figurines. As well as her wadrobe into colours and clothing types (skirts, tops etc). Which I thought was lovely and mature for an 11 year old. Then she said, oh so sweetly, 'I also categorise my enemies, too!'. I thought this was rather rich, considering the irony of this innocent little girl.

As I sit here and type this, I hear the rustling of wind, and the loud, squeaks of the kids next door playing their recorders. (ah, the days of recorders! Again, the only reason i joined the recorder club in primary school was to go to the opera house... Now that I think of it, I feel so guilty for making my parents sit through those shithouse concerts)
And just then, as the dude from the apartment upstairs walked down the stairs and past the window, I related to what he was snickering at- the kids are now yelling 'hiyaaaa mateee! wasssupppp buddy?!?' at him.

I once yelled random things to strangers, too.

Oh wait. I still do.