E. and I went rock climbing not too long ago and it was on one of those nights where the gym was flooded with kids.  It was like the city's daycare centers all unloaded any unwanted unruly children here and let them loose.  There were kids swinging on ropes, throwing rocks, running with cake and after the sugar high surpassed a few were even left crying. This adorable boy in particular, caught my attention when I was attempting a more challenging route up the wall, and his sobbing, sighs of woe and twitching lips almost completely knocked me on my feet laughing.

Not because I'm an insensitive jerk that likes to watch kids cry but because I remember being that young and being upset and how sometimes the world just seemed like such a bad place.  There's something about being ages 2-18, where despite the innocence, life seems like such a serious place and every little thing is a life or death matter. 

Sooner or later you get old, go through the depths of hell and back and realize that you just pick yourself up and keep moving.