Until last night I never thought about punching a child in the face. Who am I kidding? I think about punching people in the face all the time. It’s not that I’m a violent person. Wait. I just admitted to wanting to punch a child in the face. I am a violent person. I’ve thought about being at the grocery store and tripping a screaming child just to enjoy that ten seconds of pure shocked silence before they start screaming and you have to get the fuck out of there before the police are called. I’ve seen a kid kick a dog and then wanted to kick the kid. Kid knows better. The dog doesn’t.
We don’t get a lot of heat here in the Pacific Northwest during the summer. If we do have 90 degree days it might be for 3 days and then it’ll start raining or a hipster will fall through a Starbuck’s door and write a screenplay about how depressing Seattle is. For the last week we’ve had hot weather. Shoot yourself in the head weather. Punch a child in the face weather. I don’t do hot weather very well. It gets above 60 degrees and I start mourning my sweaters. I get cranky when it’s hot. And I get boob sweat and swamp ass. TMI? Yeah, but it’s my blog.
So I’m trying to fall asleep last night about 2 inches away from a fan that is doing nothing but blowing hell fire heat around. It was maybe 8 o’clock. Early for a lot of people but I like to go to bed early during the work week. So I can sleep and escape the fact that I don’t like my job. Neighborhood kids are outside playing because hell, to them it’ll still light out for another two hours and they don’t have to go to sleep to get up in the morning for a job. Those little bastards. It gets pretty noisy right out in front of my house. I wear earplugs but last night, they seemed to amplify every single sound. I’m in bed, fan turned up high, boobs sweating, brain suffocating from the heat. And then I hear it. This bizarre plastic plonking sound like someone is picking up something and setting it back down on the concrete outside. After half an hour of trying to ignore it I get up and look out my window to see some kid in the driveway tapping a sidewalk chalk bucket slowly and methodically onto the driveway. She’s doing the world’s slowest cup stacking thingy. She picks up the pace a little but she still seems to lose her place and all I can hear is not a catchy rhythmic sound but the sound of someone rolling a plastic cup along the sidewalk. I wondered if a squirt gun would work through a screen or would it be like taking a pee test and all I’d end up doing was getting the water all over me. After about an hour and 10 minutes I wanted to punch the kid in the face, mainly because I was jealous because she got to play outside until it got dark and didn’t have to get up and go to work but mainly because I was hot and pissed off that I couldn’t play outside until dark. People think it’s weird when a 40 year old woman wants to hang out and draw on the sidewalk. I had to tell myself the kid was being a kid. Enjoy her enjoying herself. Enjoy the fact that she wasn’t going to be any stacking cup champion anytime soon. I still wanted to yell out the window “Enjoy it while you can, kid, because pretty soon you’ll have to get a job and try to spend your life sleeping to escape it.”