My walk to work takes me past a private elementary school. The 7:50AM bell rang so I watched a mother, irritated like a pinky toe in new shoes, hurry her child up by telling him that she didn't like him anymore because he was slow.
I won't be surprised to see her and her son eating a big ass fancy ice cream cone. (see previous entry: say-i-love-you-with-sprinkles.html)
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