tangentman

I'll tell one story about my childhood which will explain a lot. I don't personally remmeber this, but my mother told me this story not too long ago. I was about five years old, in kindergarden. And there were a few days in a row when some third graders were bullying my friend Ariel. So one day i got sick and tired of it and i decided to go ouside and wait for these two third graders to come by and i was gonna beat them up. My mother looked out the window, and i looked so pissed off, and my arms were crossed over my chest, and i was huffing an puffing and ready to kick some ass. But she just laughed at me because i was standing there, ready to fight some older kids, wearing my shoes on the wrong feet. I love that story.