| 10:58p |
Hippy theories (bust out your tambourines!)
Aren't long weekends just the best? Ooh, for more Mondays of lying sleepily in bed, thinking, "Ha ha, Mr Monday, you ain't got me this time!" And THEN, before you know it, you're eyeing off Mr Thursday, and the next weekend is ahead! Public holidays have always rocked for me...when I was a retail chicky, it meant double-time-and-a-half pay; now, it means more sunny times with friends. Yay.
I've been spending a lot of time with my baby brother, as it's school holidays at the mo. Though he's not that much of a baby anymore...he's seven, and growing taller every day. We went to see "Garfield" at the local mall today, and my goodness, the mall was SO NOISY! Breckin Meyer was very cute as Jon. Though he was a little too cool for a character who's supposed to be a perpetual loser. But maybe that's just me being a cartoon buff.
I tried to get Zac to teach me how to play soccer. I figured that if I learnt to play soccer, then that would make me seem more sociable. Cos I'm always sitting at the side of the soccer field. I'm really scared of the ball. At the end of our session, I sat Zachary down and said, "You've gotta tell me what I'm doing wrong!" and he replied, "I don't think I'd like to say." I begged him to tell me, and he said, "Well...you just scream too much."
The kiddies at the childcare centre have been learning a thing or two about screaming, as well. Good golly...all this rain makes them go all crazy. They start whacking each other and getting into fights, and I am forced to use my Disciplining Teacher voice. During lunchtime, I sat down at a table of three-year-old boys: Max, Julian, Michael and a few others. Max was convinced that the knocks on the wall that he hears at night are ghosts and monsters, but every time he shared his theories, Julian would shout, "There's not such thing as ghosts or monsters!" And the boys would all look at me for confirmation. Max tells me that he sees beady, shiny eyes under his bed. He told me this: "Once, I saw a monster, so I grabbed a pole and I banged it in the face!" Thank goodness for the sandpit. Once the boys get into the sandpit, they're okay, and they stop trying to injure each other. And I can stop saying, "Can you please stop touching my bottom? ANGUS, my bottom is out of bounds!"
Maybe if we had sandpits for grown-ups, there would be less war and fewer broken marriages. And I'm sure it'd do something for the environment, as well. Maybe we should all hang out at the beach more. |