well, it was like hearing my mom say "meanwhile back at the ranch"

I did the best thing a kid could do on Sunday. I gave my five year old Monstruo Uno my razor scooter.

I bought it as a freshman at uni. Think back. It's way back (it's a flashback within a flashback within a flashback) because I'm a super senior now (maybe just barely but I feel cool like I'm super or have super powers or I'm savvy saying it). Remember how we'd all ride it around my dorm room floor and how the O.G. of G.O.G. would sometimes borrow it to get around this little city?
Then remember that Christmas break Sophomore year where I was stuck in said little city in that little crappy apartment and I was home alone all day and I got bored as the letter H so I put on some Ashley Simpson and rode around the kitchen table for an hour. Yeah, that happened. And even more yeah, I probably know all the lyrics to that A.S. album. But you know you enjoy my talent of being able to belt out a million ridiculous songs. And I sing them with feeling. Plus I came up with the greatest twist on lyrics the other day for Roommate E.
Junior year an old co-worker bought a razor scooter as well and we would ride around the streets. She would do sweet tricks like no hands scootering and I would fall over because I have no balance or talent. After she graduated and got a real job five states away, I haven't found an excuse to scooter, nor have I been able to properly run.
Senior year, Razor lay inactive.

The point is, this scooter was not meant for me.

I brought it Sunday to family dinner and Monstruo Uno has never been more delighted. Much more successful than the harmonica at Christmas. I guess he doesn't want to be Bob Dylan. He wouldn't stop scootering, we went over half the neighborhood playing his new invention "Scooter tag." It consists of him scootering and I run after trying to catch him. End result: I can't catch him.

But it's fun to try.




Coming Attractions: Rotatoes and my dear J.