Wednesday, April 07, 2010

*child's play.

I quite like other people's children. Not strangers' children, mind you—I rather dislike children I don't know, with their screeching and their boundary-less existence and their insistence that I find them cute.

Maybe we have too much in common.

Children I know have quiet souls and lots to say and hooboy eyes like this.


Or good Lord, like this.


Children are rank tattletales, and they will expose their parents' frailties without provocation.


For the grown-up tattletale, this is a terrific source of amusement.


Other people's kids will grin widely at you when you come through the door and climb enthusiastically into your lap and let you wrestle tiny burps out of them that feel like gold-medal moments.


For the childless, this is a terrific source of puffed-up pride.

lettuce eat.

Sure, kids are funny, with their unabashed innocence and utter disregard for modesty and plucky un-self-awareness.


But the best part about other people's kids is that they think you are HILARIOUS.


And the validation of a tiny brain is pretty much all I need.


What's Next? says:
at: 9:53 PM said...

Thanks for explaining it in a way I never could. Love you, and love them.

Julie says:
at: 2:59 PM said...

You're my favorite writer/photographer.



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I am a work in progress. I perpetually need a hair cut. I'm totally devoted to my remarkable nieces and nephew. I am an elementary home cook and a magazine worker bee. (Please criticize my syntax and spelling in the comments.) I think my dog is hilarious. I like chicken and spicy things. I have difficulty being a grown-up. Left to my own devices, I will eat enormous amounts of cheese snacks of all kinds.