So I’m shopping at the grocery store with the baby girl in her carrier in my cart, and I turn the corner into an aisle to find two thug-looking kids blocking it, loudly perusing the soda section. Their saggy pants were in dire need of belts, their fake chains were blinding, and their sideways hats sported shiny silver Cadillac logos.
As I cleared my throat and authoritatively said, “Excuse me,” they looked at me with disdain for having the nerve to interrupt their pop shopping. Still, they grudgingly moved out of the way. As I rolled my cart past, one loudly whispers to the other, “Dude! Dude, come here!” I couldn’t wait to hear what was so urgent, thinking it could have been the perma-puke stains on my shoulder that caught his eye. “Come see how cute this baby is!”
Did I mention how much I love thug-looking kids with saggy jeans, giant chains and sideways hats?
