we had a tiring day: Jun. 08, 2005 (12:58 pm)

we spent the afternoon on the porch of hope house sometimes with actual residents and sometimes without and sometimes with a six year old boy named nick who is probably one of the few kids in the neighborhood who can play freely at the punk house and we watched him while he made farting noises all over his body and tickled my foot and flipped his eyelids inside out and threw rocks and drew all over his face with a pen and stuck out a peanutbutter sandwhich covered tongue and stuck a screwdriver in his ear and i thought about how we should stop him before he damaged his eardrum or anyone else's eyes and about how i sit and laugh at my older brother's jokes and how terribly immature it is that i laugh at a little boys pranks in the same way even when they aren't funny. i wonder, if i wanted to, if i could raise kids or would i leave the room in hysterics at knock knock jokes and snotty noses.

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