"Ma'am, Nixon rules, so I'm choosing the colors green and yellow." He was working on a craft project.
"Alright, go ahead. Hey, I graduated from Martin. What do you think about that?" I smiled at him, expecting the usual 'Martin sucks' response.
"Martin is ghetto, ma'am," as he gave me a disgusted look.
I laughed because I didn't really expect that response. "But I'm not ghetto and I graduated from Martin."
Again he says, "Martin is ghetto" and changes the subject with another question "Hey, ma'am, do you shop at Hollister?"
I let the Martin issue slide. "Nope. I don't shop at the mall. I shop at Wal-Mart."
"Wal-Mart is ghetto," is his immediate response.
"Okay," I giggle, "What does ghetto mean to you?"
"It means lame. Like pulgas are lame, and going downtown is lame too."
"Oh, so you've never been to the pulga or gone downtown?"
"Pos, yeah, but they're still lame."
I can't help but laugh because I know for a fact that frequent shopping sprees at the mall are a luxury his family can't afford (who can really?). "Okay then. So where do you do your grocery shopping?"
"Ugh, at H-E-B. Duh!" Again, he shoots me his look of disgust.
"Oh, I thought you shopped at Super S," now I'm just picking on him.
"No way! Super S is really ghetto!"
Gotta love them kiddos.
**I love Super S and their over priced food, permanently sticky floors, and that unforgettable smell that permeates the air...but I can't really say I disagree with his last comment.
It's nice to converse with someone who is still innocent and hasn't yet been distorted by the world. I wish I was a kid again.
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