patrick

When I was in kindergarten there was a boy named Patrick. Every day he would come over and pull my hair or push me or somehow or other find a way to touch me or bug me. I went home and cried to my mother, "Patrick hates me!" "She soothed me and said, "No honey, he probably likes you. That's just his way of showing it."

The next day I went in to school, all excited. Every time I saw Patrick I gave him a starry-eyed smile with a big "Hi, Patrick!" He didn't bother me anymore that day, after that actually avoided me.

My skills with men are still about par with this experience.

My daughter loves this story.

Happy Valentines Day!

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