the boy down the block

year 3

"STOOOOOOOOOOOP" i screeched as loud as my young vocal chords would allow. nonetheless, he kept on pulling at my hair

"Jason! stop that this instant!" said kathy, sternly as she scooped him up into her arms, rescuing my scalp from further torment.

"you're four years old, you should know better than that." she scolded

"pulling hair is not nice, now go say you're sorry." she said as she placed him on the ground once more

he approached me, embarrassed.

"i'm sorry" he said quietly, looking adorably bashful

"iss okee" i replied in my two year old garble of a response

he blushed and plopped down onto the floor next to me and continued playing with his truck, just as it was before my hair became tangled with his small fist.

i sighed and continued scribbling all over my coloring book, just as i was before my hair was almost his