I love kids.
From babies to teenagers, no matter what stage they're in, I get a kick out of spending time with them.
I like the way they think and the way they see the world with fresh, unjaded eyes. I enjoy their innocent perspective, their idealism, their energy and yes, even their pathos. Young people can't help but be sincere and it's a welcome relief after spending so much of my time among middle-aged cynics and bitter retirees.
So when my brother called me a few weeks ago from California asking me to play host to his sixteen year-old daughter Katie I jumped at the chance.
It had been about a year since I saw her last and I was anxious to experience how the world looked to someone just starting out.
They say blood is thicker than molasses but I have to admit that after only a day and a half I thought I was going to lose my mind.
You see Katie came with a friend. A close friend. A friend so close and dear that they clung together like desperate strangers on a crashing plane. Even physically, they folded themselves up into such an intimate clench that one was hard pressed to see where one ended and the other one began. The way they walked together, always in sync and always locked into an almost eerie stare. It was such a struggle to get Katie's attention that after a while I actually stopped trying.
I was relieved when they left and I have to admit I'm still shaken by the whole experience.
But then again, I'm an old guy so what do I know?
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