A Day at the Park
I woke up today around 12:30, but didn't actually roll out of the bed until around 1:20 pm. The thing is when I'm working, I don't get in be until around 8:00 am. So I average between four and five hours a 'night' of sleep. I'm constantly tired, and being tired all of the time sucks. But, we have to pay our bills, and this is job is the best job I could imagine getting.
Mrs. Molly was feeling quite poorly, so I took the three youngest to the park. The playground at the park has this zipline kind of thing. Basically it's a handle attached to a roller on a track. The three little ones love this thing. The little guy who is about 2 1/2. went for a ride today, and fell off at the end of the track, did a face plant into the sand, and came up grinning. He looked like a sugar cookie, sand all down his face. I asked him if he was ok, he replied "Yes, sand on me." I wiped him down, and he was ready for more. His older brother ended up doing the same thing. He four, and just as tough. The girl? She's old enough to hold on, and not fall. After awhile I got a little tired, hoisting those guys can get exhausting. So I sat down for awhile, and just watched the three of them play together. I wished I would have had a camera with me. They played pretty good together, sure I had to break up a few disagreements. But mostly, they got along very well.
This was the second day at this park. Both days I have seen this punk (white) kid stroll through the park trying to look 'bad'. Yesterday he tried to stare me down as he passed. I just stared back, wondering if he was carrying a weapon under that baggy shirt. He looked like the type that would pull a gun, rather than let himself get hit hurt in a real fight. Looking at this kid, and that's what he was, just maybe 14. I had to wonder what his parents thought of him. I wondered if his dad was in the picture. I wondered if dad was there, if dad even tried to discipline this little boy that tried to walk like a man. I would love thirty minutes with this kid, not to hurt or harm him. I just want to ask him the questions I just raised. I would love to find out why he feels the need to be 'thugged out'. Is he afraid? Is he in a gang? Are gangs in this city? Or, is he just living the lifestyle of a Thug Life because he idolizes the OG gangster rappers?
I'll never ask him any of these questions. Instead he and I will continue to eye each other as I place myself between him and my cubs.
Mrs. Molly was feeling quite poorly, so I took the three youngest to the park. The playground at the park has this zipline kind of thing. Basically it's a handle attached to a roller on a track. The three little ones love this thing. The little guy who is about 2 1/2. went for a ride today, and fell off at the end of the track, did a face plant into the sand, and came up grinning. He looked like a sugar cookie, sand all down his face. I asked him if he was ok, he replied "Yes, sand on me." I wiped him down, and he was ready for more. His older brother ended up doing the same thing. He four, and just as tough. The girl? She's old enough to hold on, and not fall. After awhile I got a little tired, hoisting those guys can get exhausting. So I sat down for awhile, and just watched the three of them play together. I wished I would have had a camera with me. They played pretty good together, sure I had to break up a few disagreements. But mostly, they got along very well.
This was the second day at this park. Both days I have seen this punk (white) kid stroll through the park trying to look 'bad'. Yesterday he tried to stare me down as he passed. I just stared back, wondering if he was carrying a weapon under that baggy shirt. He looked like the type that would pull a gun, rather than let himself get hit hurt in a real fight. Looking at this kid, and that's what he was, just maybe 14. I had to wonder what his parents thought of him. I wondered if his dad was in the picture. I wondered if dad was there, if dad even tried to discipline this little boy that tried to walk like a man. I would love thirty minutes with this kid, not to hurt or harm him. I just want to ask him the questions I just raised. I would love to find out why he feels the need to be 'thugged out'. Is he afraid? Is he in a gang? Are gangs in this city? Or, is he just living the lifestyle of a Thug Life because he idolizes the OG gangster rappers?
I'll never ask him any of these questions. Instead he and I will continue to eye each other as I place myself between him and my cubs.
posted by Tall Molly Man at 8:08 PM
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