Kiddie Kandids

Today -

a mom and her two young kids

walked in on me listening

and singing along to

"Cocaine Flow"

by De La Souls.

Oops.

Things I said.

At the grocery store,

the mother of this girl

who had cancer while she

was in high school with me,

skipped me in line

at the deli

while I was buying hot ham

and rolls.

I didn't say anything.

I wrote those words on a post-it,

to remember them-

and put it in my back pocket.

I must have dropped it going south,

because going north,

a friend picked it up,

unknowingly,

and read it aloud,

and corrected the grammar,

and we all laughed

at this weird stranger.

I didn't say anything.

The first day I hated my job.

The other day,

I took photos of

3 female adults

5 female girls

and one little boy.

The Salvat family.

They were loud,

disrespectful,

and completely mean to each other.

One girl,

Sophia,

who was ten,

had hair like Farrah Fawcett.

I could've choked on the hairspray.

The family switched from

English to Spanish,

saying things like-

"this background is ugly"

apparently figuring that

I wouldn't understand them.

They threatened to hit each other,

and called each other gay

or stupid.

When I was posing the six kids,

I asked-

"Sophia, could you sit over here".

Her response-

"That's MISS Salvat to you".

All I could say was "Whoa."

and pretend like it didn't bother me,

but in reality,

it shook me to the point

where I could have cried.

When I got back to the shop,

I just laid face down in the booth

silent.

Disheartened by the fact that

families like that exist, but

Relieved that my family is not

and will never be

anything like

the Salvats.

Image serene and Mike.

Today,

I played with a three-year-old

with big green eyes

named Michael

while his parents bought photos.

I put a top hat on him,

and a flowing crown on me.

He told me we looked cute.

Then,

I read to him.

Dr. Suess' alphabet.

He sat next to me,

on the floor,

and sometime during the "K"s

he put his little hand on top of mine

and held it.

My final two hours of the job

were spent taking photos

of a two-year old named "Image".

I couldn't bear to address her as such,

so I called her Immy.

They were modeling photos.

Her mom wants her to be a pamper's spokesgirl.

Dear Milwaukee,

I hope it never gets to you

how much I talk about Minneapolis.

Yeah, I'll admit it, I'm enamored.

My heart races whenever I even think

of going there.

Music.

Passion.

As soon as the skyline

comes into view,

I can feel the butterflies

begin to float in my stomach.

Like the first glance

of a long-awaited love,

dying to embrace.

But Milwaukee,

I love you.

You will always mean more.

You're not golden, no.

Impoverished, segregated, stagnant...

dangerous- some say.

But in those flaws-

perfection,

potential,

passion.

A dismal skyline

is the most beautiful thing.

You're not broken.