Also, my neighbor got me candles for Christmas. Now I feel obliged to make her cookies or something.
I like her and if I ever have spawns of satan, I want one just like her. I bet she was a good young kid too. I know this because she let her younger brother ride shotgun. This was really nice of her, and I wanted to yell that at her as she was getting in the car. But I didn't, because that would have been weird.
I will save you all from the paranoid thoughts this little encounter brought forth in my mind.
Actually, I won't. It's my journal and I can be all paranoid.
1) MY GOD WHY ISN'T SHE IN BED? But then I realized not everyone starts getting ready for bed at 8pm at night and promptly shut that thought down.
2) MY GOD WHY HAVEN'T I MET HER MOTHER? This is a valid question. I haven't, in fact, met her mother. I mean, wouldn't her mother want to meet the lady who doesn't drink milk but has ample supplies of sponges? Or, you know, the lady who is being visited by your 11-yr-old daughter?
3) MY GOD, ARE HER PARENTS BEATING HER?!? I shut this question down real fast. I thought maybe she was reaching out to me, a perfect stranger, because I might save her from a life of abuse. I mean, I'll keep my eyes open and shiz-nit, because this IS the halfway house but I'll just assume the household doesn't have milk or sponges (Occams razor and all that).
So there.
