While walking north on Valencia just now, I saw a well-dressed woman talking to a tree. This in itself is not noteworthy, because people talk to inanimate objects more often than you might expect.
As I got closer, I saw that she was talking to a boy, maybe five years old, who had climbed the tree and wedged himself into a crook of the tree. He was wearing brown corduroys, a striped t-shirt, a devilish smile, and a light blue bicycle helmet. (No bicycle nearby.) He had a bad case of the giggles.
"Now _______," his mother said as I approached. "What do we always say is the most important thing to remember?"
The boy paused to think for a moment. Then, in all earnestness: "DON'T POOP IN YOUR PANTS."
I burst out laughing, the mother sighed, the boy looked vaguely confused, and we all carried on with our afternoons.
As I got closer, I saw that she was talking to a boy, maybe five years old, who had climbed the tree and wedged himself into a crook of the tree. He was wearing brown corduroys, a striped t-shirt, a devilish smile, and a light blue bicycle helmet. (No bicycle nearby.) He had a bad case of the giggles.
"Now _______," his mother said as I approached. "What do we always say is the most important thing to remember?"
The boy paused to think for a moment. Then, in all earnestness: "DON'T POOP IN YOUR PANTS."
I burst out laughing, the mother sighed, the boy looked vaguely confused, and we all carried on with our afternoons.
Labels: san francisco, strangers
that's not you in your banner, right?
Nope. While I can definitely be stiff, I am not *that* lifeless.