At work, we have a few contractors jackhammering at a roughly 10’x8′ rectangle of asphalt in our parking lot, in preparation for pouring a cement foundation for a small bicycle parking structure. It looks really hard, tiring, uncomfortable. Peering out the window at the activity, someone said to me, “Be thankful your parents sent you to college.”
That made me think about it — I don’t really remember my parents “sending” me to college. I don’t really remember them even encouraging me to go to college. I don’t even remember not going to college being a consideration. My recollection is that I always assumed I would go to college. Perhaps my parents set that expectation early enough that I don’t remember the setting of the expectation.
The kids recently started playing a game together, spontaneously, and apparently both immediately knew the rules of the game. It went something like this (if I remember KrisDi’s description correctly):
Chilkat yells, “Hey! Let’s play CarrotChilkoot!”
Chilkoot responds, “Yeah!” and immediately runs downstairs and begins to orbit the island in the kitchen.
Chilkat starts chasing him, hollering, “Sit down, CarrotChilkoot! Hey! Sit down, little carrot!” and similar, while Chilkoot carries merrily and stompily on.
Eventually, CarrotChilkoot sits down violently, and Chilkat falls upon him, and feasts on his carroty flesh. “I’m eating you! Om nom nom nom!”
CarrotChilkoot’s mortal screams sounded an awful lot like gleeful giggling.