“A child is a curly dimpled lunatic.”
Ralph Waldo Emerson
He does say ‘child’ though and I’m glad I brought that up. The babies aren’t the ones that get to me, after all how many movies can you pack into twenty four months, that seems to be the age when you can tell the kid to ‘hush up’ and they know you’re really pissed.
It’s from then on they disturb me.
I have a kid next door to me aged seven and he looks like Damien.. I stood a few people back at the coffee counter queue last week whilst he tormented me with his idle decision making. His mother seemed to feel that it was ‘all part of growing up and helped them with life’s future challenges’ whereas I wanted to stick his hands in the toaster. …. She must have felt my eyes burning into the her .My eyes!! What am I saying ? The queue had grown now and there were murmurs of a hanging and forcing children up chimneys again.!! I‘d had a shave that morning and I could feel fresh stubble coming through so I started my glaring technique …. It worked .,She smiled at me “Look there are people waiting” as though we had just popped out of thin air! “.have a bagel” but Damien doesn’t miss a beat…. “I’ve got a mind of my own” …When I was seven I didn’t have a bed of my own! Baaaaaaaaaaaaaassssatard.
When I was a boy I got a wooden fort and some lead soldiers for Christmas. I loved them, played with them for years. The kid next door can redesign the fort and animate those lead soldiers with his latest programme, but is he happy NO! He wants a better programme so the sky is bluer and the sun is yellowier and the grass is greener. We used to call that playing outside. Nintendo Game Boy…… fun in the palm of your hand. I think we had that when I was a boy too.
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