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  • Rabelais at the Zoo

    But hey. Yanking my boy around on a monkey leash at the zoo was supposed to work out for me. That way I wouldn’t have to reinjure my back leaning over his stroller the whole time, and he could run up close and look at the animals. But he kept running away from me. So I would yank hard on the leash, and then that little brat would fall down. I got so mad; I just screamed at him to get up. People around me started to whisper. I knew they were talking about me. Then one of those busy body ladies, who thinks her way of parenting is the only way of parenting, clicked over in her two inch heels (at the zoo now mind you) to the security guard, and almost spilled her latte on him she was so intent on squealing to him that I was abusing my child. Now I am stuck in this hot office answering annoying questions.
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