Thought of the day: 8th grade basketball games.
As I'm sitting in crowded, parent-filled bleachers at interminable grade school basketball games, every sentence that runs through my head seems absolutely genius, a scintillating gem of wit that I just have to release into the world.
Okay, well, maybe it's not that wonderful. But I do enjoy those moments where everything I think seems smart and funny. It good be a good sense of humor, it could be awesome creativity, but it could, of course, just be mild insanity.
What I find funny, though, is 8th grade basketball games. Tonight I played chauffeur for a handful of middle school athletes. (That kind of stuff just happens when your family owns a 12-passenger van.) I sat through their games, watching the parents and coaches jump and yell about the 5-foot boys stomping their way around the court. There was a grandma next to me videotaping the entire game. I wonder--is she really going to watch it again later?
But I must admit, some of those boys were amazing. 8th grade boys can be cooler than I thought.
That's a weird thing to say.
I don't understand this, but I have a place in my heart for younger children. Especially for middle schoolers, for those pubescent kids for whom life seems to suck ALL THE TIME. I'm surprised by this; I'm not a huge fan of kids, especially of preteens. 12-14 were some of the worst years of my life...and yet I find that I can really feel for kids that age.
...I don't know where I'm going with that.
That's enough for tonight.
You see what I mean about never having anything to say?
Okay, well, maybe it's not that wonderful. But I do enjoy those moments where everything I think seems smart and funny. It good be a good sense of humor, it could be awesome creativity, but it could, of course, just be mild insanity.
What I find funny, though, is 8th grade basketball games. Tonight I played chauffeur for a handful of middle school athletes. (That kind of stuff just happens when your family owns a 12-passenger van.) I sat through their games, watching the parents and coaches jump and yell about the 5-foot boys stomping their way around the court. There was a grandma next to me videotaping the entire game. I wonder--is she really going to watch it again later?
But I must admit, some of those boys were amazing. 8th grade boys can be cooler than I thought.
That's a weird thing to say.
I don't understand this, but I have a place in my heart for younger children. Especially for middle schoolers, for those pubescent kids for whom life seems to suck ALL THE TIME. I'm surprised by this; I'm not a huge fan of kids, especially of preteens. 12-14 were some of the worst years of my life...and yet I find that I can really feel for kids that age.
...I don't know where I'm going with that.
That's enough for tonight.
You see what I mean about never having anything to say?
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