Alex and I went to the park near our house for a while on Sunday. When we got there, there were three other kids. All very nice. And then, a bad one showed up. He lives right near the park, he's six, and I do not like him. He's the type of kid that makes fun of a three year old because he can't traverse the monkey bars without help. The fact that it was my three year old definitely didn't help matters.
Alex, the bad one, and a different little boy were playing on the merry-go-round. Alex was sitting in the middle and the two older ones were pushing. But then of course the bad one had to prove he was stronger than the other kid, so he started pushing the opposite direction. Since this left Alex sitting motionless in the middle of the merry-go-round, he climbed off to join the fight, to which I quickly said no. I told him if all three boys wanted to work together and push, that's fine, but I didn't want him engaging in this weird muscle-off. With that, the bad one flopped on the ground and rolled around a bit while proclaiming, "I hate my life." You're 6. Don't stress. It'll get worse.
Any way, these boys were also spouting off about how old they were. The good one was 5&1/4, the bad one 6&3/4. The mom of the good one asked me how old Alex is. And did I reply with a simple 3? No, I blurted out, "He'll be 4 in June." I quickly realize how ridiculous that was since it's only, you know, DECEMBER, so I tried to backtrack by saying, "So, he's 3&1/2...since we're...ah..er...all going by fractions."
No, Jackie, we aren't going by fractions. The children are. Pretty sure I impressed her and we will be life long best friends.
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