Bouncy Houses.

Last week, I was talking to the guy I like.

You know, the one who says things like “it’s easier to be friends right now” and then sometimes, he will look at me, or he will say or do something that has me thinking “maybe he does like me…?”.

He asked if my little one and I would like to join him and his two little ones at a local play area in the mall the next day. I happily agreed. A few hours later, I remembered that I hadn’t asked about the price… so, I messaged him, and he said that, with the passes he has, kids are $5, and adults are free. He said kids are usually $10, but parents are always free, and I said something to the effect of “well, I imagine parents aren’t meant to play on it”. He said that parents are actually encouraged to play with their kids in the bouncy houses.



Did he think this through??

Stop for a moment, and picture me in a bouncy house.

So, we went to the bouncy houses, and we had a good time… it was fun, and the kids had a blast. I even went into a couple with Arienette. NO, there are no pictures, ya perverts! But then… then, just when I think the anxiety is gone…

“Would you like to go to _____ to get some ice cream with my mom?”

Fuck. I about died.

So, I went and met his mother, and ate ice cream like a good girl. She was very nice, but I don’t think I have ever been so confused in my life, as I walked around looking at peafowl, pigs and goats…

What the fuck is my life??



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