(I like to keep generic Fruit Loops in my bag for such occasions as ballets, operas, and that time of day when snack time hits but your window is broken so the Taco Bell drive-thru isn't an option. I probably did lose a few pounds thanks to that window until I just started opening up my door and hanging out to catch my chalupas.)
Can I have some more Fruit Loops? Here. Be quiet. Can I have more than that? Here. Be quiet. No fair! Eve got more than me. Here. Be quiet. What kind of music is playing? Classical. Classic rock? No. Classical. Classical rock? Here, have some Fruit Loops.
This is Natalie, age 7 going on 17. I didn't even hold a cell phone until I was 17, and back then it was the size of a Big Mac container with an antenna that you had to pull out and if you wanted to take a picture, you had to PUT FILM IN YOUR CAMERA THAT WAS NOT A PHONE. Natalie totally cares about my story right now. I can tell by the way the blood returned to her knuckles as she considers how awesome it is to be living in a time and place where your mom can keep duct taping the van while you entertain yourself taking photographs on an antenna-less phone that is not the size of a Big Mac box.
On stage, she learned to snap since she had no phone in her hand. I bet if we let her be phone-less for a few more days, she'll learn to whittle.
And it was such a hot day that the fountain in front of the theater dried up. Or someone stole all the water. Probably a thirsty kid who was parched from too many generic Fruit Loops. But we can Photoshop in the water later or maybe just tell people they can't see it because it's clear, duh. City water is clear like vodka!
Nat had a "Poetry Potluck" at school, which seemed like another classy occasion to bring generic Fruit Loops, but unfortunately my window still wasn't fixed at this point so there were none to be had.
A "Poetry Potluck" as explained by Natalie: You know what a potluck is with food? It's like that, but with poetry. And we have to bring food.
The kids all had awesome hats that were made out of potential generic Fruit Loops serving pieces. And they had laminated books of poetry. And inside said laminated books of poetry were hidden gems like this:
why oh why
The quiet angst of Maya Angelou, the e.e. cummings influence, plus the mind of a first grader who is hopped up on generic Fruit Loops. Why is There so much duct tape on my van?