About once per month, I go out to eat by myself at a fast food restaurant. It is on the weekend, and I bring a book. Not that there is anything bizarre about that. I love the way I feel when I am engrossed in a book in public. It is quite a nice feeling.
My indulgence is that I go to Micky-D's. Yes, McDonalds. And a high class McDonalds at that. This one has Diet Dr. Pepper as a selection for a fountain drink. Anyway, I get a Kid's Meal (I really don't like more than a little of the food, except for their French fries, and let's face it, my ass does not need anymore "firming up with said French fries." You know, I don't know why people get pissed when an adult gets a Kid's Meal. McDonald's gets their money and I get a smaller portion of fat. A win-win situation.
So I go to McDonald's, and I am not really into reading the book (make note: take back-up book next time), so I go to the kid's play area. Heck, I have my Happy Meal, but I am not going to kick off my shoes and crawl through those germ-infested plastic caves. I will, however, watch children do so.
Anyway, I love people-watching, and absolutely love children-watching. I was watching this little girl; she was so charismatic. She had on khaki pants and a green shirt, and her hair was in a pseudo-ponytail. Strands of hair were all around her face, and she had the most infectious smile. Her little brunette head was bopping here and there, and then she went right up to a little boy, probably about 5 and said "Come play with me." Now I don't know too much about 5-year-olds, but I do know most have started thinking that girls have cooties. She was maybe four years old, and she just wanted to play.
She came up to the boy again and said, "Come play with me." It was both a request and a command at the same time, and the little shy boy started playing with the girl. She would chase him, and then he would chase her, her infectious laughter lighting up the entire place.
I had placed my book down and watched for perhaps 20 minutes when I finally pulled myself away from the joyous site. Later, I revised the moments in my mind. I do that quite a lot.
My little "Battle of the Bloggers" contest that I thought of a couple of weeks ago and posted last week seems to not be going particularly well. I posted it with trepidation because I used to be the little girl that would say, "Come play with me." Now that I have been an adult for so many years, that little girl is just a memory, and certain disappointments have shaped me. I guess my reaction to them have really shaped me. I don't take too many chances anymore. The "Battle of the Bloggers" is a chance, I suppose, but there are others in my life. Guess I am asking people to play even though for most of us, myself included, this is just a diversion from our adult lives.
Oh, to be four again, with strands of hair encircling your face, laughing like some small joyous angel in the local McDonalds.
What do we do with society’s misbegotten?
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