the little girl was as cute as a button. tresses of long blond hair, miniature uggs, and a pink parka. she sped down the cereal aisle as her mom pushed the grocery cart loaded with organics and low-fats. running, twirling, admiring captain crunch and lucky charms. "sweet angel we have plenty of oatmeal at home," said mom as she rolled by the all-too-artificially-unhealthy cereals. sweet angel suddenly contorted her face into a twisted mess, dam of tears, mouth agape, and her fleshy red tongue. "mommy, hold my hand! you never hold my hand!" and on and on she cried.
did i miss something here? wasn't she supposed to whine about the cereal? i could still hear her down at the toilet paper aisle. geez.
