Yesterday I saw a little girl and a little boy around the age of four playing in the snow.
The little girl kept chasing after the little boy. And whenever she caught him she would hug him and try to kiss him. He would start to fight her and attempt an escape. He finally pushed her and threw a snowball in her face.
She started to cry.
I really wished I had had a Billy Holiday album and some whiskey with me.
I’d sit her down and give her a drink from my flask and say, “Sorry, kid, it doesn’t get much easier. This is Billie. Get used to her.”
