Here's my big concern, shouted from another evening past. I do not know how child prostitutes dress. The only child prostitute I've ever come across is the fictional Jodie Foster in Taxi Driver. I'm not, for so very many reasons, about to enter 'child prostitute' into google's image search...
Ever start a paragraph, get a couple of sentences in, and realise that there is no way to bring it to a happy, hilarious or even vaguely acceptable conclusion? Best thing to do is just delete the whole fucking thing and start again without the kiddy hooker hook. Better still ditch the whole post. It's all wrong and there's no way to make it right.
It's Riker's night-time attire that has me in this mess. It's essentially Foster's Taxi Driver get-up, minus the hat. She was wearing her new much adored Ugg slippers when she stood in the bathroom last night brushing her teeth and protruding her ten year old tummy as she critically assessed herself in the mirror. I was reading Data's stories and the first born, I assume, was unaware that she was in my eye line as she tilted one hip in a horribly grown-up manner, doing the Three Puhs: Posing and Pouting and Preening. She's not even ten, though I have been describing her as such for some time now in order to soften the double-digit blow which is due in mid-February. Nine she is, and already at the mirror in the bathroom, trying to be not nine, trying, in fact, to be sexy. Maybe I'm paranoid, maybe I'm sick, but I believe that I know it when I see it. Because I do them myself, all the fucking time, those Three Puhs. Oh, how I Preen.
She has to grow up, I know, I know. But why does she have to? And why now? And why in front of me?