Wednesday, November 28, 2007

I love kids

I'm just not comfortable sharing a similar genetic makeup with any of them.

Contrary to what some people assume, I am actually pretty good with kids and they seem to like me (I assure you this is not always a result of bribery or brain-washing tactics). Some of them even pick up on my sarcasm. I think this is apparent in the stories they pen about me. I have a babysitting gig a couple times a week for some family friends of ours, and this week the little girl shared with me a story that she had written. It was so good and such an (I think) instant classic that I decided not to keep it to myself. The following is an excerpt from her illustrated story "The Christmas Tree," or "the Crissmis tree" (I felt that correcting her spelling was not in good keeping with the Crissmis Spirit). Of course you have to imagine that each new line is a new page, and is accompanied by the artistic renderings of a seven year old.

I am a Crissmiss tree [sic]

I like to dance

I like food

Good food

I love Ashley

but I can not

Ellen does

Isn't a cat beautiful?

Do you like Ashley too?

O man

Do you really

Do you really really really really really



When I eat tapioca pudding, my branches get dirty

I am sleepy

I am still sleepy.

The story concluded with the tree (realizing in horror that it has neglected to dress itself) running from the paparazzi (also trees) who sought to imprison and photograph it. Fortunately for our protagonist, an escape was made and the other trees were pretty bummed out. My favorite part is where the narrator is forced to fight his love for me. I think we've all suffered the heartache of unrequited love.

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