It's official. I am now my mother. Curt and I went to Valleyfair (our local amusement park) on Friday for a company event. The place was crawling with scantily clad teens of both genders. Mind you, Valleyfair doesn't even hold a candle to the Minnesota State Fair when it comes to skanky dressing. At the State Fair (and the Taste of Minnesota), the God of your choosing picks up the slimiest of trailer parks all at once and shakes out their inhabitants to walk the fairgrounds in the nastiest, smallest and most tasteless attire imaginable. It makes an interesting spectator sport. Really, it does.
Anyway, so we're in line to get a locker at the water park, when I look over and see an 11 or 12 year old boy and girl pair, they might have even been a small 13, wound around each other so tightly that each pore in one's body was giving the other's pores some good mouth to mouth sweat/oily secretion exchange action. Now, normally, when my signs of mental aging and fatigue kick in, say when I hear loud obnoxious music, I try to keep my internal monologue internal - "Could you please turn that crap down! What kind of crap are you listening to now?". However, that day, I turned to Curt and my mouth moved and spoke before my internal sensor could stop it- "Don't you think those two are a little young to be sliming around on each other like that?" There was a brief moment of silence, then Curt replied "Aren't you a little young to be sounding like my grandmother?" Yet another reason I love Curt- he tries to save me from myself. *sigh*