I wiled away the minutes gazing out onto the bustling pedestrian thoroughfare known as Nicollet Mall, when a cute little boy wandered into view. He had nice features, had a neat little outfit on, etc (you notice these things more when you have a kid yourself).
Then his mom entered the frame, and gave him a beverage to drink from. Well that's nice - a picturesque little snapshot of parenthood, thought I. Except for one little detail, that is. A detail I sadly wasn't quick enough to capture with my cellphone camera.
The mom was wearing a large belt buckle that read "Kiss My Ass."
Now, I don't want to throw stones here - but when my kid was born,
I took stock of my life and decided that maybe it was time to retire things like my "Kiss My Ass" belt buckle, which is why mine now resides in a box in the basement, waiting for the day when we have a rummage sale and someone can pay a quarter for the privilege of letting strangers that happen to look at their waistline know that make no mistake, theirs is an ass that should be kissed.
3 comments:
Hater.
I'll give you a quarter for that belt right now.
Hmm - I'm starting to think I have a collector's item on my hands. I may have up the ante to .50 cents.
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