The other day, I went to Goodwill for the half off price day. Why? Because I don’t pay full price for anything if I can help it, and look it’s a paraffin wax machine for two dollars. I really want that. I don’t care if it’s someone elses wax, or dead skin, it’s two dollars. Yes I need it.
Maybe it’s the appeal of fashion long forgotten. Those neglected American flag shorts aren’t going to look hot themselves. I once found an entire collection of sad clown paintings, a Billy Ray Cyrus shirt and an espresso machine. That day I felt like the queen of Persia with all my riches and treasures. The kind of queen who owns rare textiles, feathers, spices and like the first known plasma television…
What you do find in Goodwill is magical, what you also find are terrible parents.
So, I’m shopping. I had my hands on a sweet stretchy mini skirt. I hear this banshee child running through the isle. He’s crying, he’s distraught, he’s snotty. He’s crying for his mother. It sounds like a mongoose fight.
I help children however, even snotty ones. I follow after trying to get the kid’s attention so I can return him to his owner. I’m running after him and so is an older woman. We’re both calling after him in what I’m worried looks like a kidnapping plot gone horribly wrong or maybe wacky should it be a comedy movie. Alas no code Adam for this kid, because I think mom is sniffing glue somewhere.
Well I get the kid stopped, and try to ask him where his parental figure is. He continues to scream and more snot spews down his face. Then his grandmother shows up and says the kid has A.D.D. which somehow explains the kid being lost. Absent parenting is symptomatic of said disorder.
So at the check out line the kid is hitting his mom and saying, “I ain’t goin to the damn car neither!” Maybe mom did that on purpose? The kid had half his shirt in his mouth and was now covered in both drool and snot. Gross.
I know, I know, kids get lost, but he was running around screaming for quite some time. How do you not know the piercing screams of your own child given you are subjected to them quite often? Also, another woman got the skirt, sooooooo there’s that. I don’t think it would fit her either, I’m pretty pissed. Thanks kid. You should go to the damn car.
One time I saw the most dirty kid I ever saw in my life at Goodwill. His parents were trendy hipsters so this isn’t a poverty jab. However the child did appear to live in the most vermin invested Hoverville. The parents were in nice clothes, hell they were downright dapper. He looked ferrel.
I thought at any moment he would say to me “Please sir, I’d like some more.” Why did they let their child go in public so filthy? One of a few stepmoms I had growing up had relatives that let their child run around like a dog that rolls in poop. My brother and I were like, “Do we have to play with her? If she breathes hard her boogers are going to fly all over us!” To which my dad would respond with his ominous silence and stern eye. Don’t fuck with that look. He remembered the Alamo.
I see bad parenting here and there. Trust me, you have to be pretty bad for me to pass judgment. However, Goodwill seems to be the ground zero for poor parenting choices and a sweet collection of cat mugs. Morning coffee is about to get adorable. I’m still mad about that skirt, I know she put it back when she tried it on. NO WAY that skirt fit those haunches!