Today both of my kids coincidentally had concerts. Cupcake performed with our city's children's choir on a recruiting and community service tour of schools and a children's hospital. Robespierre performed with his school band at our local Overpriced Amusement Park, after which the kids got to wander around the park for a few hours before the bus came to take them home. All the kids in both ensembles wore black pants, white shirts and black shoes; they looked like little waiters.
Cupcake packed a lunch and a water bottle, but Robespierre was on his own for lunch at the Overpriced Amusement Park. Admission was charged to his school bookstore account, but lunch, drinks, snacks and entertainments were on him me. I gave him $50 just in case; I expected about $20 back.
Here's what he brought home:
When we were kids our mother used to drop us off at a movie theater on most Saturdays. We saw whatever junk was playing: stop action Hercules movies; With Six You Get Eggroll; Boatniks; Plaza Suite; Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid; Star Spangled Girl; Cabaret; and the annual reissue of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. If you've never heard of some of these films, it's with good reason; best not to ask.
Tickets were two dollars; there were three of us. Schpilkes usually gave us a $20 bill, and we usually spent the entire thing on popcorn, sodas, red Twizzlers, sour Charms lollipops, enormous chocolate bars (essential for a viewing of Willy Wonka) and SweeTarts the size of a child's fist. Every week she'd ask us for the change; every week we'd hand her some coins; and every week she'd groan and swear that one day she was going to give us a $100 bill and see how sick we could make ourselves.
My mother always bestowed the worst possible curse on us she could muster: "I hope you have kids just like you, so you'll know what it was like for me."
Is this my payback?
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