Sell your soul, buy a tank of gas.
Does anyone care that I paid $2.79/gallon for regular gas yesterday? Anyone? When all I really wanted was an iced coffee and would've GLADLY paid $2.79 for a hugeass iced coffee but couldn't because after I filled up my tank, I realized I was over $25 POORER and I still need to pay a RIDICULOUS AMOUNT OF RENT in 2 weeks!? Crap.
I babysit Gabriel almost every day now. We are busy doing important things like throwing a frisbee. Gabriel lives approximately 7 blocks away from an ex-boyfriend who I have not run into. I was deathly afraid I would bump into him the other day while walking down Columbus Ave. with really dark under-eye circles and wearing the sweatpants that make my butt look big. Good thing I didn't!! Good thing that instead, I ran into his MOM. Sigh. Seriously.
Gabriel is a crazy only child who is always right. This is exaggerated by the fact that he a) is a boy and 2) lives in Manhattan. Conversations with Gabriel go on forever because he needs to know everything and loves to chat.
"Laura, do you know that in some parts of the world, people don't have enough money for food?"
"Yes Gabriel. Isn't that sad?"
"Yes. Sometimes they don't have money to go to school or bring snack or anything."
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"Um. Because not everyone has the money."
"Can I give them my money?"
"If you want to. But there's lots of other people who help them out."
"I have 15 dollars!"
"I know. That is awesome."
*pause*
"How was your weekend, Gabe?"
"My Uncle Paul moved away."
"Are you sad? Where did he move?"
"To California."
"To CALIFORNIA!? Oh my goodness."
"No, just kidding. He moved to Bronxville."
"Oh."
The other day we were playing "Hit Each Other With Plastic Bullets From The Bat Mobile". Of course, every time he hit ME, I was "dead" and had to "play die" but yet when I hit HIM, it didn't count. Gabriel likes to change the rules.
"Laura, I hit you in the chin! You die!"
*I die*
"I hit you in the arm! You die!"
* I die*
Gabriel then proceeds to hit me in the zipper of my jeans.
"OH MY GOSH!" Gabriel yells, "I HIT YOU IN THE TESTICLES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Ah. If I had a nickel every time I spent the afternoon getting hit with bat mobile bullets in the testicles.
Now at the end of 4 or 5 hours with this child, can you understand why I might need that iced coffee?
Peace.
I babysit Gabriel almost every day now. We are busy doing important things like throwing a frisbee. Gabriel lives approximately 7 blocks away from an ex-boyfriend who I have not run into. I was deathly afraid I would bump into him the other day while walking down Columbus Ave. with really dark under-eye circles and wearing the sweatpants that make my butt look big. Good thing I didn't!! Good thing that instead, I ran into his MOM. Sigh. Seriously.
Gabriel is a crazy only child who is always right. This is exaggerated by the fact that he a) is a boy and 2) lives in Manhattan. Conversations with Gabriel go on forever because he needs to know everything and loves to chat.
"Laura, do you know that in some parts of the world, people don't have enough money for food?"
"Yes Gabriel. Isn't that sad?"
"Yes. Sometimes they don't have money to go to school or bring snack or anything."
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"Um. Because not everyone has the money."
"Can I give them my money?"
"If you want to. But there's lots of other people who help them out."
"I have 15 dollars!"
"I know. That is awesome."
*pause*
"How was your weekend, Gabe?"
"My Uncle Paul moved away."
"Are you sad? Where did he move?"
"To California."
"To CALIFORNIA!? Oh my goodness."
"No, just kidding. He moved to Bronxville."
"Oh."
The other day we were playing "Hit Each Other With Plastic Bullets From The Bat Mobile". Of course, every time he hit ME, I was "dead" and had to "play die" but yet when I hit HIM, it didn't count. Gabriel likes to change the rules.
"Laura, I hit you in the chin! You die!"
*I die*
"I hit you in the arm! You die!"
* I die*
Gabriel then proceeds to hit me in the zipper of my jeans.
"OH MY GOSH!" Gabriel yells, "I HIT YOU IN THE TESTICLES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Ah. If I had a nickel every time I spent the afternoon getting hit with bat mobile bullets in the testicles.
Now at the end of 4 or 5 hours with this child, can you understand why I might need that iced coffee?
Peace.
