So much face smishing!
I love the stupid boys at my work so much I don't even know how to articulate it. Like, they're so stupid, and they're such boys. They have contests to see who can snap towels the hardest and they talk about girls like they're an alien species they'll never understand and they dare each other to do stupid things like take shots of boiling hot coffee and they grow stupid facial hair mainly to amuse one another. I just want to smish their cute little faces!
I don't tell them I want to smish their cute little faces because they don't realize that they're cute little boys. To themselves, they're grown men. They can't get into bars, yet, but they're totally adults in their own eyes.
Tonight after work they were jumping around the parking lot, and one of them rode his bike so they were fighting over who got to ride it first and they were popping wheelies and talking about hanging out as I was walking to my car, resisting the urge once again to smish their stupid boy faces. Then they looked at me and went silent, and one of them went, "Um. You can come hang out, too. If you want. I mean. You're totally invited, too." Like they were worried about hurting my feelings. Smish! Their! Faces!
I laughed and assured them I was fine and told them to have fun. And because I'm old, I also told them to be careful. I'm not sure what they were planning on getting up to, but considering they can't buy beer, I'm imagining that they're going to get burritos and go back to one of their grungy apartments to play the new Halo and smoke weed.
I don't tell them I want to smish their cute little faces because they don't realize that they're cute little boys. To themselves, they're grown men. They can't get into bars, yet, but they're totally adults in their own eyes.
Tonight after work they were jumping around the parking lot, and one of them rode his bike so they were fighting over who got to ride it first and they were popping wheelies and talking about hanging out as I was walking to my car, resisting the urge once again to smish their stupid boy faces. Then they looked at me and went silent, and one of them went, "Um. You can come hang out, too. If you want. I mean. You're totally invited, too." Like they were worried about hurting my feelings. Smish! Their! Faces!
I laughed and assured them I was fine and told them to have fun. And because I'm old, I also told them to be careful. I'm not sure what they were planning on getting up to, but considering they can't buy beer, I'm imagining that they're going to get burritos and go back to one of their grungy apartments to play the new Halo and smoke weed.