When I was a four year-old little blonde thing running around suburban Calgary, an old man once asked me something I'll never forget. As I skipped down the sidewalk in a sunny day, he said, “Hello! Where are your playmates?” I had never heard the word “playmates” before. I had several friends, but his wording made me confused. Once I figured out what it meant, I felt like I was being judged for not having any friends; it took a bit of the fun or of skipping down the street by myself. Every time I hear the term “playmates” - usually in Playboy mansion context - what comes to mind is not busty ladies in pink bunny ears; nor is it kids skipping hand in hand. I remember that random old man smiling at me from his driveway on a sunny Calgary morning.
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