ye olde crapfest

i was coming back to work after lunch and saw some little boy with huuuuuuuuge glasses, he was maybe six or seven and had a backpack bigger than him, no kidding. he was struggling down a really long street (called longview, incidentally) with a big brown paper grocery bag that seemed to be full. of what, i don't know. anyway, i wanted so badly to stop and offer him a lift home; i figured he probably just lived at the end of the street or something, just a three second drive, but it's a hell of a long walk when you're six or seven and you're weighed down with books and supplies and dioramas and the like.

but i didn't stop. because i figured he'd freak out and wouldn't let me, being a stranger and all. and if he didn't freak out, then surely his mother would have me arrested within a fortnight.

then i thought about maybe just offering to take his stuff to his house for him, so he could walk comfortably and not have to worry about whether or not he was going to drop all of those leftover cupcakes or whatever it is he had in that bag. probably best that way. if it had been leftover cupcakes, we might've had some trouble.