I Could Really Go For A Snow Cone Right About Now
Living across the street from a church is nice at 3:59 on Saturday afternoon when you decide you want to make it to 4 o’clock mass
so you don’t have to sit through all the songs on Sunday.
Living across the street from a church isn’t so nice when it’s attached to a Catholic school and it’s the end of the school year and the kids are having some kind of end of the year picnic/carnival/make-the-neighbors-jealous-fest going on in the playground across the street.
These festivities were going on all afternoon and I’m comfortable enough w/ my immaturity to admit that I seriously considered stopping over for some four square and a snow cone. All the cute little kids (who are annoying as shit when their parents are lining the block and holding up traffic so little Janey can get school side pickup) were playing games and chanting cheers and I was pouting on my balcony, telling myself that those little ice cream cups you eat w/ the flat wooden spoons aren’t really that good (ha; those ice cream cups were the bomb diggity).
Know what else is the bomb diggity? Having a beer on the balcony and relishing the fact that none of those screaming kids are going to barge through your door and need food/water/attention anytime soon.
Linking up w/ Steph, for what is probably the
lamest tamest party post ever.