Old Is Old

 

Old is when....

                                                                        every single stinkin' night

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And that's all she wrote.

Cross-walk Drama

Source: Boston Discovery Guide

Ducklings crossing the road in Boston was written into an old children’s book:  Make Way for Ducklings.  But this post is a reverse, different setting, and with people.

Picture this:  a crosswalk two blocks away from DisneyLand (happiest place on Earth!) and a family of parents and four offspring.  Happiness was evident.  The parents were in the back, laughing and enjoying mild sunshine in Anaheim.  The youngest child (8 yrs.?) pranced in excitement: Oh-boy-oh-boy-oh-boy….

The next two were sisters (10-12 yrs?) who were giggling and whispering, but it was not clear at whom their giggles were aimed.

Then at the front of the crosswalk family was the source of giggles and whispers:  The 17 yr. old (maybe 16 yrs.) was walking a good six feet ahead of her rag-tag family.  Her clenched jaw, clenched fists, and tight face said so much.  Her thoughts:

OMG…I can’t believe those are my family.  I mean, like, look at them!  Like, you know, dressing like they are, OMG, TOURISTS! 

Just one look at her and surely everyone could see what she wanted to wear:  high-very high-heeled sandals, straps around the ankles; short, very short, and very tight red shorts (good grief!); and, then a tee-shirt that matched the rest of the family’s shirts.  Her thoughts:

OMG!  A TEE-SHIRT?  A tee-shirt?  Like, you know, anyone would ever ever wear “I’m from Idaho!”  What was wrong with the sick hot top Belinda and I found on-line?  Sassy spaghetti straps—what’s wrong with that??  And the mid-riff?  Everyone I know wears mid-riffs!  The sequins?  So what if they spelled out: PUSSY CAT . I love cats, everyone knows that!  Just wait, Mom, you turn your back one second and I am gone.  Away from you hicks.

What was Mom thinking:

Yeah, Missy…you may think you can escape, but I know you.  And, why do you think I let you wear those ridiculous sandals?  To look good?  No, to hobble you while you think you look hot.  The red shorts?  Sunburn always reminds that pride goeth before sitting.

Quack. Quack. Quack.