I went home to Belleville for the Thanksgiving weekend. It was pretty cool. You figure out what you've been missing when you go back home. And by "you", I mean "I". Besides family and friends, I miss cheese that you can cut slices off with a knife, and wireless internet in my bedroom, and a room that is comfortably cool, and a bed that can accommodate movement, and the fresh smell of my house, and scrambled eggs and properly cooked veggies, esp. green beans.
On Sunday I went with my father and my sister up to my aunt and uncle's house. I got to meet my new second cousin (that is, my oldest cousin had another baby). Her name is Sienna and she loves me and she's adorable. She makes me want to have kids.
We went to the Peterborough zoo, which is kind of dull but mostly it's just an excuse to go on a walk with the relatives. We took my cousin's son, Spencer, to the playground. Among other things, there is a long slide that takes you to the bottom of a hill, and then you have to climb the stairs to get back to the top.
*gasps for breath* Jesus, there is a lot of build-up to this story. It's not even that interesting, either.
Anyway, we were waiting for... someone, I dunno who, to get back to the top of the slide, and there was this little boy (I want to say about three or four) at the top, seeming very hesitant to go down the slide. His mother was trying to convince him to go down the slide, and she called him by his name. His name was Alexander.
Most of the time, the name "Alex" doesn't trigger my Amazing One-Track Mind. "Alexander" does, without fail. I can't help this, it just happens. So I look at this kid, and it's not difficult at all to imagine that it's a very, very young Alexander Mahone. He's got blue eyes, a similar skin tone, and bless him, his hairline is obviously doomed to recede. My mind goes off on a blissful and slightly creepy tangent where the young mother is Cynthia Mahone, taking her two sons (the boy had at least one brother) out to the zoo. Abusive Daddy Edward Mahone isn't there, and she is able to take a small pleasure out of that fact and enjoy herself. The idea that Alex was a bit of a wuss when he was a little kid amused me to no end. Just because he's brave now doesn't mean he always was. I think of him as having been a bit hand-shy when he was a little 'un.
So you have seen how my Amazing One-Track Mind occasionally leads me into the realms of downright creepy.