Day 289
I am now experiencing the wrath of a six year old and in order for this little monster to stand a chance at sleeping and in order to add to the three hours of sleep I got yesterday and to get out of this room I am hiding out in and not supposed to be in I will make this brief, also did I mention the RCMP are circling the parking ramp within my view?
Here goes in chunks as exhausted and tiny as my attention span:
When it comes down to stealing coffee from the bank, you know you need a coffee. Well, coffee and cookies and something called, "thunder sticks." I am not really sure how "thunder sticks" (translation: tubes of inflatable plastic) are supposed to show customer appreciation.
My friend and her child are currently visiting me and they rented a car. It is one of those cars that you look at and say, "It looks like it's trying to be a van." And the next time you see it you say, "Now it kinda looks like it's trying to be an SUV." And the next time you see it you say, "Damn, that BMW is right on the bumper of our land yacht."
After we ate a 46 dollar breakfast we hauled the kid over to the Science Museum where we witnessed tons of kids that were way less well-behaved and parents who were super annoying. Apparently, talking about the price of rubber chips to scatter in your lawn with a perfect stranger is perfectly normal. When we noticed all the lunatic kids running around we also noticed all of their lunatic mothers congregating around talking. Now I wonder if these Mom's drag their kids to the Science Museum just so they will have someone to talk to.
I learned today that throwing sand up in the air over your head and running for cover is a game.
The six year old and I went beach crawling to look for shells. The first thing we spotted, "Look, a crab arm!" As we walked along the beach the pieces of crabs were just as plentiful as the sea shells. Am I the only one who finds this terrifying?
I just spent the last hour in a tickle war. Now that is over and I am the current reigning champion I wonder about tickling itself. When does one stop/grow to old for tickling and why?
After watching the six year old write, "Siens" in her notebook to mean, "Science" I wondered why it wasn't spelled, "Siens." That version is super phonetically correct. I also wondered if her journal was more interesting than my blog. Then I realized it was, I mean come on, it has pictures.
Playing kick the ball at someone's head with a beach ball that was won at Drag Queen Bingo and sports the logo of a men's bath haus is also a very fun game.
Playing, "How fast can you run from here to over there and back?" is even better.
Playing UNO with a six year old who shows everyone her cards and actually gets excited when she has to draw is also quite good.
Okay so I realize that I am in a writing program but, really when I read the facebook walls of my fellow students and read something that contains, "a brief and violent dance with the muse" in it I want to smack people.
I still don't understand why people make stuffed animals that look like themselves for themselves but, now I kind of want one.
This is all I can manage tonight and now there are sirens outside...
Tip of the Day: When in doubt wear at least socks and sometimes shoes.
-Canadian Castaway
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