Sunday, August 8, 2010
The Risk Involved With Leaving the House
Sometimes Kiddo says he wishes he'd been given that competitive edge; language immersion preschool, a sturdy foundation in Greek philosophy, an understanding of the temporality of relationships.
"The Greeks! The Greeks!" he shrieks, hands like talons.
"Don't look at me," I say. "As a person with no interest in reproduction I may as well lay down and die in the dirt. My sister says I'm free. I get to do whatever I want, do horrible things to my liver, if I want."
Kiddo stands with his hand over his mouth, eyes tight. He's not really sure how my tangent applies to his.
"And next life, The Greeks!" I say.
"The Greeks!" Kiddo shouts, fist in the air. "But really we'll probably be poor kids in the sexy kids district."
"Maybe that's why people are so obsessed with it. Like how I want to build skate parks in third worlds for my next go around. Selfishness!"
I don't smoke anymore and rarely drink so when Kiddo gets going I just rest my temple on the tips of my fingers and stare. The first thing we ever agreed upon was how people should be made aware that their actions are discouraging us from leaving the house.
I can hear the tears of the evening from here.