Maybe you and I have different experiences with 5-year-olds, but I think taking on 19 of the little buggers is pretty bad-ass. From personal experience, I can handle 3, maybe four–all they need to do is get me off balance and I’m pretty much S.O.L. Plus, we grown-ups are handicapped by biological imperatives: we’re evolutionarily preprogrammed to protect and comfort crying children*, whereas five year olds think that injured and crying adults are freaking hilarious. On a related note, five year olds are MEAN.
*you know, so the saber-toothed cats can’t hear us.
Maybe you and I have different experiences with 5-year-olds, but I think taking on 19 of the little buggers is pretty bad-ass. From personal experience, I can handle 3, maybe four–all they need to do is get me off balance and I’m pretty much S.O.L. Plus, we grown-ups are handicapped by biological imperatives: we’re evolutionarily preprogrammed to protect and comfort crying children*, whereas five year olds think that injured and crying adults are freaking hilarious. On a related note, five year olds are MEAN.
*you know, so the saber-toothed cats can’t hear us.
March 18th, 2008 | #