Yokels

When I was in high school, I dated a girl named Sara. You can pretty much forget about that right now, because it's only an introduction, and I only mention it to a) set the scene, and b) explain why I was hanging out with a four-year old.

So I'm over at Sara's house one afternoon, and her little sister Abigail is there, too. Abigail is maybe three or four years old at this point, which more or less automatically makes her both insane and a lot more fun to talk to than her parents who don't seem to care for me very much.

Me: Hey Abigail, c'mere. I got a question for you.
Abigail: Yep.
Me: Okay buddy, what do you want to be when you grow up?
Abigail: A firetruck.
Me: Um... Abigail, do you mean a firewoman?
Abigail: Nope.

On the way home I saw a firetruck and I couldn't help but think that Abigail really is a pretty name for a firetruck.