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How my brain works or Scary Business

My 11-yr-old upstairs neighbor, who I can only guess has been left alone by her mother, stopped by for some milk.

My brain went on speed dial. Should I say I'm vegan? Wait, will an 11-yr-old know that term? Do I just say I don't have milk? Will she think I'm lying to her, because honestly, who DOESN'T have milk? Do I offer some rice milk? No, 11-yr-olds from meat and potato families probably don't drink rice milk, right?

I said I didn't drink milk. She was all, "oh, okay". I had to add, "but if I did, I'd totally give you some." To which she replied, "Great! Have a nice night, it was really nice seeing you again."

Now, I'm left with even more questions. Why is an 11-yr-old having to run down to her new neighbor's apartment at 8pm at night to ask for some milk for dinner? Is she being starved? She does look a little thin. Does her mother not believe in stocking the refrigerator with enough supplies to last forever? Worse, does her mom believe she shouldn't just run down to the store and buy some milk for dinner? OH MY GOD IS THIS KID GOING TO DROP DEAD FROM STARVATION?! Will I have to steal her, change her name to Luanne and smuggle her to work as my assistant on all things pre-teen? Should I go buy her milk so she can eat? APOCALYPSE!

There, now you know how my brain works. It isn't pretty.


Dec. 5th, 2009 05:17 pm (UTC)
my mom used to give us money and have us ride out bikes to the little store about 2-3 blocks away to get milk. if we did we could pick out a candy bar along with the milk. i had a basket on my bike that fit a half gallon pretty well, but trying to ride while holding onto a gallon was more difficult.

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