I’m observing a 10-year birthday party made up of young boys. About 50% Asian, notable only because it’s not the demographic of my hometown.  They are scared of me and my lime green mohawk, maintaining a respectful distance.  That’s slightly gratifying but my smile gives me away.  I’m just a strange girl typing in the corner, here by the grace of adulthood.  Why I’m here is irrelevant.  Their opinion doesn’t count.

Watching small humans interact is easily one of the most fascinating experiences I can have. Not owning one, I don’t often see the allure. But with the chance to casually observe others’ spawn, I get to enjoy all the fun aspects of their human nature without worrying if it’s right or wrong. A fair witness to most events, childhood is when instincts are are their most raw.  It’s thrilling.