Last Thanksgiving while waiting for the turkey, the H and I had the pleasure of sitting next to some children.
I like children.
And not in the creepy way.
I thought I would strike up a conversation, otherwise things were going to get progressively awkward. Now I know at my age it’s to soon to start complaining about feeling “old”, but I must say, conversing with children never fails to highlight my advancement in years.
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I’ll concede the title is a bit much.
Let’s move on…
A Valentine’s Day scribbling:
We’re young.
We spend our money on Wrestling Pay-Per-Views and DVD’s. We go to movies and text friends about them. We MySpace. We lie in bed all day putting off laundry and paying bills. We don’t open mail. We quit jobs because they suck while having nothing else lined up. We watch cartoons and complain about dialogue. We talk about our childhood like it’s so far behind us. We feel old sometimes, like we know it all.
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