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Taxes
“I never want to grow up.” Arthur spoke through the silence. He was currently laying on the bed tossing a basketball up into the air and catching it just before it hit his face. It was one of those lazy summer days and we had spent about an hour or so in silence. As Arthur spoke I looked up from my copy of ‘Catcher in the Rye’. “Why?” I asked. Arthur threw the ball into the air. “I don’t want to pay taxes.” He replied. “You already pay taxes on everything you buy.” I laughed, setting down the book and moving across the room to sit by his feet. He threw the ball again. “oh.” He said before catching it. Arthur had this way of being really smart and yet seeming to know nothing at all. Arthur was a classic. He lacked common sense. He once ended up in the hospital for burning his hand because he forgot that if you put something in the oven it would come out hot. “Well,” Arthur caught the ball again. This time holding the ball close to his chest as to not throw it again. “ I still don’t want to grow up. I mean,” He sat up and scooted closer to me. “What will people think of my hair as an adult?” He grabbed at his hair. It was a curly mop, colored blue in the front and purple all around the back. Again, classic Arthur. “I think you may have to change the color.” I answered. Arthur looked appalled. “Change it?” He yelped. “No way. Nuh-uh. Nope. Not gonna happen.” He went on. I laughed. I knew he was never gonna change it. Just like he would never stop wearing blue sparkly eyeliner and leather studded jackets. Arthur would stay a punk kid forever. He would never grow up.
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