It’s not your fault that Cesario ever existed – it’s God’s fault. Fuck you, God. :mad:
Aaaanyway…
I’m reminded of a time in middle school, while knocking on doors for a school paper drive, when at one house a naked six-year-old girl answered the door. At the next house, a naked seven-year-old girl answered the door. And at the third house – you guessed it – the door was answered by a naked eight-year-old.
When I told my father about that odd coincidence, he grinned and said, “I would have skipped the next ten houses!”
Salesman knocks on a door. It’s opened by a seven-year-old boy wearing high heels and a teddy, with a cigar in one hand and a glass of whiskey in the other.
“Err,” stammers the salesman, “is your mommy or daddy home?”
The boy takes a puff on the cigar, blows the smoke out, and sneers, “What do you think?”
Bedroom doors are always kept closed in our house to preserve the AC and not destroy the environment any more than we already are (I live in Jakarta and it’s really hot).
We instituted a “knock before you enter” policy as soon as we moved back here when my son was 9. He didn’t see the need for it at all and we had to convince him it was a good habit to get into.
Now that he’s almost 13, he gets it. But I think it was only in his 12th year that he started to care.
I was conveniently blocking that out, now I’ll have to create a new fiction around it all. Because in some ways she’ll always be that impish five year old to me.