That's right, I had a huge scoop of hummus on my pita chip and I shoved in way up in this kid's sneaker at the roller rink.
He deserved it and much worse I assure you. He crushed my friend's child's slushy and not only did he not offer even a hint of an apology, he didn't even try to help clean it up or acknowledge her in any way. It was like he was spaced out, although I couldn't really see with all the stringy hair in his eyes.
We were at the rink with all our kids and he came in and sat four feet from my friend on the same long bench. Little Jackson's brand new blue slushy had been sitting there for all of two minutes when the kid just plopped down on it with a super loud "POP" heard over the blaring Maroon Five song. Everybody within a ten foot radius turned to look, but the kid whose ass landed on it acted as it nothing happened. Rude.
He was exactly the kind of under-acheiving, dirty-looking, impolite and clueless kind of loser jerky boy I'm trying to raise my kid to be the opposite of. My friend and I were stunned at the degree of his non-reaction.
I mean, she spoke very clearly to the boy and when I say clearly I mean it. My friend happens to be the local news anchor in our town and she has one of those voices that people listen to and really hear. She enunciates. She said: "Excuse me, that was my son's drink," but Darwin with the saggy britches didn't even make eye contact. He continued removing his very nice high-tops, laced up his roller skates and hit the wood without so much as a look back toward us old ladies or the ten year old silently lamenting his blue slushy.
After my friend cleaned up the blue dye #6 and threw away the crushed styrofoam, we sat there sipping our smuggled-in red wine and eating our secret hummus. We're stealthy, crazy rule-breakers, sneaking in decent snacks like that...we're bad, we're bad, we're bad, we're really bad.
As I looked down at the giant scoop of hummus I was about to eat, the payback hit me. Right took over. I suddenly stood up, and as I walked past the shoes, I shoved the loaded chip way down into the shoe without even breaking stride. I could hear my friend's booming laugh but I just kept walking toward the restrooms with a smile bigger than Dallas creeping across my face. I was very proud of myself.
It felt good. I wish we could've stayed around to see the winner of a kid shove his foot into the oozy tan mush, but we left during the Hokey Pokey. I hope he thinks it's cat poop.
Jerk.
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