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Justin Scandals, Count How Many
The New Skipping Rhymes of Gen Z
I’VE BEEN UNDERCOVER IN MY SAILOR SUIT AND adorable Hudson’s Bay dress shorts (available in Québec in polyester only, due to the current shortage of “pure laine;” et je vous prie d’agréer, chers amis, l’expression de mes sentiments très très fucking désolés), chatting about Dr. Seuss and reminiscing about The Friendly Giant with unsuspecting school-age Gen Zed-ers as they go about their daily activities.
I tell you, looking authentic while trading prosciutto di Parma and Dijon mustard sliders on artisanal focaccia at lunch break, or fake-crying when it was time for yet another “milk and cookies power-nap,” stretched my humorous-blogger incognito reporting skills, and my already gossamer-thin patience, to the limit and beyond.
But I did net the following cultural gold: Non-traditional skipping rhymes, who knew, and I have to say: These kids are the future. Assuming we have one.
And it’s off I go for another “Ankle-Biter” portion of chicken nuggets and French fries at Pickle Barrel or I’ll start to get cranky around four o’clock, which is typically when my ADHD kicks in.
