In a sea of human children
I don’t get to see a lot of children these days. We just don’t hang out in the same places anymore. We don’t run in the same circles. (No fair pulling this post out someday when I write about everyone around me making babies.)

The office was flooded with children today. In my day-to-day existence one hallway containing four children constitutes flooding. It’s not like children were crowd surfing over my cube or leaping from the cabinets. Then again, it’s not like my office is the home of kiddie death metal either. What’s that? Oh. Right. Back on track. Four kids can seem like a lot since I usually see, hear, and think about none. In this instance there were four little girls- one mildly bored twelve-year old and possibly the three cutest six-year olds on the planet. We are talking fist-flying, ninja-kicks-to-the-shin adorable. Sugar and spice? That’s so 1950s. It’s dancing Cheetah Girl time and also punch David time. It’s possible the surprise attack duck, duck, GOOSE got them riled up, but it’s not like I ran full tilt down the hall. I even let them catch me. From that moment forward I seemed to be the number one target for little girl aggression. I’m not a large man by many means, but I can hold my own against six-year olds, most of the time. It’s fun to have half-sized humans around even when they insist on the flailing and the kicking. Several times today I found myself enjoying their company quite a bit. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t allowed to do the Cheetah girl dance with a girl doll. I could bust a move with a boy doll. He was boy band-esque, big head and all. I did worry that I might cause some squeals or get the dreaded dirty look from a parent, but kids are fun. I wonder if men reach a certain age where they decide the best way to have serious play time again is to have a kid of their own. Or is that just me? (And really, how much more serious can my play time get?)