The Children Are Watching


Gold Can Stay

He was about eighteen years old, confident and brimming with a raucous if not unsettling laughter that seemed to emanate from his being.  He garnered attention, even from a distance; and he seemed to hold a certain court with the peers who surrounded him.  That he thought he was very funny was clear.  Whispers, then eruptions of more laughter, he held his young audience rapt.  Perhaps picking up on a theme he had hitherto established only verbally, he removed his sweatshirt and positioned it under his t-shirt and in an instant molded it into the shape of a sophomoric caricature of two breasts.  His cackling escalated.  He stood up and proceeded to parade himself around reminding everyone within earshot that “hey, honey,” his “eyes were up here.”

I looked at my two children, who were blissfully unaware of his antics only twenty feet away, and was grateful they were so engrossed in their latest playground…

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