changing lives since 2003 (ms_pooka) wrote,
changing lives since 2003

bike safety, the long and vertical arms of the law, and marshmallow feet.

i just came back from a trip to the nearby bike store. the only infant helmet they had on hand was purple with pictures of cartoon dragons sporting shiny silver fairy wings. that's even gayer than the one i like:

if only it came in my size. or brian's.

i was too lazy to get out of the car at the other bike shop, so i wound up at starbucks. but it was only the first time this week. and i didn't even want a cookie, but knew they would mock me if i didn't get one.

so i drove and drove and dirtied the air around me. i wanted to see how far north skillman would take me, but got bored once i passed 635. i turned around to see how far south it would take me, even though i already knew the answer.

i was pleased to see a police officer standing on the corner just before mockingbird wiping sweat from his brow before raising his electro-speed gun back up to shoulder height. i suppose the car two units behind me was driving at unacceptable speeds because the officer immediately started jogging out into the road with his hands held high in much the same fashion as oliver has taken to doing this week. i like that you no longer require a fake police car in order to adequately impersonate an officer of the law. i could go down to the police officer uniform shop tomorrow and be pulling people over for bribes by the afternoon.

skillman took me down and slightly past cosmo's to swiss avenue. i turned right and ogled all the houses in their grand splendor and tried, once again, to unravel the mystery that is painting the wood trim and columns on grand brick mansions the color of the five minute icing my mother puts on my sister's angel food birthday cakes. and that color is fluffy pink. there are also some outstanding garage apartments lurking behind the mansions. i can't even afford those. and i would be damn happy to live in one of them.

oliver had his shoes on for the second time. he was crying before we left the condo because he would inevitably trip in them and then be unable to get back up on his feet with the non-skid rubber soles sticking his overturned feet to the floor and all. on the way back home, i let him walk from halfway down the grand hallway to our foyer door and then helped him up the step. he shut the door behind us and looked ready to tackle the 16 stairs to our door. then he started crying and i don't know why. so i scooped him up and took off before the ann alarm went off and she unshackled her door a crack in order to stare at us wordlessly or give us 20 dollar bills.
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