Rushing to the library with the urgency of 6:30pm hanging around my neck like a noose, my panic eased, when I realized the time changed tricked me into thinking it was 6:30pm instead of 5:00pm. Man, am I ever going to get used to that?
I got to the stairs, and walking up the stairs was a little boy - no more than three years old. Instead of the instant urges to rip out his vocal chords or the instant praying for his mother to come over and smack him around a bit to silence him...I wanted to hug him.
I KNOW right?!
It's not that I HATE kids... I don't. ... I just can't STAND IT when they misbehave or cry. I like to read about people and their kids, but I'm not sold on having my own, yet.
So, Anyway, I saw him and I started at him for a second, which probably made him cry more, and I thought what is so special about you little one that has made the ice on my heart melt away? Then his mom came over to him and she started yelling at him. It made me so sad because all I wanted to do was hug him because that is usually all I want when I'm crying.
Guys want to see San Francisco in November?
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