Every once in a while, the little girl who lives across the alley from me will try to strike up a conversation. This is usually a little uncomfortable for me, because, while when you’re a kid, you’re always warned not to talk to strangers, no one ever tells you, as an adult, whether you’re supposed to talk to strange children. But I guess technically we’re not actually strangers: we’re neighbors. Maybe it’s just a symptom of the times that I should think there was anything at all unnatural about being on conversational terms with the children of the people who live across the alley.
But anyway, the reason I bring it up is to relate this conversation:
Her: (Talks a bit about her love of digging up bugs and worms)
Me: (Polite interest)
Her: What do you love?
Me: (after thinking) Well, I like video games. And movies. And I love my girlfriend.
Her: You’re lucky you have a girlfriend.
Me: Yes I am
Her: If you had three girlfriends, you’d be the luckiest man in the world
Me: (after a bumfuzzled silence) I think one is about all I can handle.
She's a lot like you, but she don't look like you... Okay, she's not you, but she'll do fine. -- Barenaked Ladies, Intermittently