domo arigato

Sometimes it's the little things. Usually it's the little things. Tonight the boys I work with (Fat Tony and Chunk) put on some loud music and made a cardboard robot. It started as an "avant garde mask" Chunk tried to make for his friend whose father just died, but the mask (a giant piece of white construction paper rolled into a wide tube and taped, with a long, rectangular eye-slit cut a quarter of the way from the top) was too narrow to fit over Chunk's massive head. He claimed his friend's head was the same size (wow) so the mask was technically a failure.

Not to be deterred, the ever-creative Chunk set to work assembling old cardboard boxes and random "found" items into a three foot tall, legless robot with "I come from the future: 1929" written on it's chest and a geometric design taped to it's stomach that I complimented as it's lovely flower. Fat Tony corrected me, "that's his vortex of death." The boys played their loud music and walked around with the robot like a giant puppet and it felt like a moment out of fourth grade. They were very sweet and I forgot for awhile that they are useless in terms of actual "work." They made me laugh and that was good.