oh, this is rich
Y’all. I finally met someone more judgemental than me.
Last Thursday night, PK and I took Gray to a local outdoor shopping center we often frequent. There is a Barnes & Noble there with a train table (side tangent: Thomas the Tank Engine I do not approve of, for reasons that would take an entire post to talk about … yet this train table is like the equivalent of a spoonful of fiber for my child. He always — and I mean ALWAYS — poops while he is there. And so we go and expose him to Thomas and his misogynistic viewpoints.) and a Caribou Coffee shop (PK’s fav) and a bunch of other shops. It’s very pretty and al fresco, la la la.
Anyway, we don’t always go at night, but since it’s a pretty safe bet that the child is going to do the good thing (especially if he hasn’t all day) we do go fairly *ahem* regularly. We went so PK could get a coffee using his BUY ONE GET ONE FREE coupon (hot chocolate for me, thanks) and of course, so we could go to the train table.
Now the train table itself is interesting. There are almost always other kids there. And their parents range from fruity mcfruitcakes to annoyingly rigid and everything in between. You never know what kind of kids (or parents) are going to be there. Sometimes there are very aggressive children and sometimes Grayson is the aggressor. Sometimes they all play nicely together while the parents read their gossip rags or send text messages.
OK, so Thursday. Train table.
There were two women there and one little girl when we arrived. All three were black, not that it matters overmuch, but at least you can get a picture in your head. Each spoke with a slightly Northern nasal accent. They were decked out in Dolce and Gabbana sunglasses, Ugg boots, Louis Vuitton (what IS it with that ugly label?) purse … the works. The little girl had on a sweet yellow cardigan and blue jeans strategically ripped in all the right places. She couldn’t have been more than 3 years old.
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