Bad seeds and mood swings.

Yesterday I was taking my evening constitutional in Prospect Park - aka the Crown Jewel of Brooklyn, aka my front yard - as is my frequent habit. In the woods near the carousel, I passed going in the opposite direction a youngish mother pushing a stroller. Thirty feet or more behind her was her older hatchling, who was maybe five years old, a Hallmark card-perfect moppet in pink, with brown hair and brown eyes. Taking little notice of me, said moppet stopped, trudged a couple feet off the path and sat soberly on a large-ish rock; I vaguely recall her singing quietly to herself, but may be confabulating this detail. After I passed, two teenage couples strolled by together, and one of the young women paused to approach the little girl, no doubt with some words of adoration or other.

The child acknowledged the approach with the loud announcement, "I'm not in a GOOD MOOD!"

Here endeth the lesson.



[Thanks to Bright Lights Film Journal for the image.]