The same daycare I used to work at. Yeah, I decided to pick up some hours there, part-time. I needed a second job to get my mom to stop complaining. Well, and to make some money. Plus this job has the advantage of never requiring me to work nights or weekends, because it's not open then.
So remember when I was talking about buying a pair of red boots? Well, I found a pair on ebay that was only $20, so I went ahead and bought them. They're a little beat up so I'm gonna buy one of those vinyl repair kits and fix them up. There's nothing to be done about the lack of zipper, though. They take like ten minutes to get on. Each.
Today I died a little inside because some dude collecting for DARE (the government-endorsed recruiter for teen drug users!) asked me, presumably to launch a pitch about saving them through the power of telling them all the street names and positive effects of taking illegal drugs, if I had any kids.
If. I. Had. Kids.
OH MY GOD I CAN'T LOOK OLD ENOUGH THAT PEOPLE ASSUME I'M A MOM! IT'S NOT FAIR!
I'm nineteen! Nineteen year olds don't usually have kids! Especially not kids old enough that they're worried about them getting involved in drug trafficking!
This makes all those times I've been called "ma'am" pale in comparison...