Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Frankisms by Marissa

I feel like I can't call them Marissa-isms anymore, there are too many posts under that name. So perhaps I will begin calling them Frankism's, because she's just so frank.

It started this evening when I picked her up from her school. There were two men walking down the hall away from us. One of them was very tall and broad-shouldered and he had as big an afro as I've seen since the 1970s. All you could see from behind was a big halo of curly black hair.

"Lookit that guy!" says Marissa loud enough for him to overhear, "He has super big fuffy hair." He turned a little bit, smiled, and kept walking. Thank God he smiled, that's all I have to say.

Then, while driving home, we saw a bicyclist biking towards us on the street. He was wearing a bright all-orange vest which reflected the light. Since it was dusk, it was busy reflecting the lights of our headlights.

"Whoa," says Marissa, "That guy is super bright!"

As with all things related to what Marissa says, it's not what she says but how she says it that's so endearing. Wish I could've captured these quips on audio.

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