Just look at them, gathering at the nearest junk fest to buy their kids’ toys. Here it’s almost Christmas, and they’re looking at cheap helicopters that’ll last a couple of weeks – maybe – before little Johnny realizes the rig won’t fly anymore. You think I have a bad attitude? You would too if you grew up in traveling tents.
Mama knew how to sell crappy toys and jewelry. I guess it paid for our ratty clothes. Food was usually free. Mama was friendly with the food truck men. She raised me by herself, but she wasn’t a saint. God, this crap fest reminds me of Mama.
She died last Christmas with a five in one hand and a flimsy green airplane in the other.