A girl, about 8, bent at the waist, her torso parallel to the ground. Young goth mommy about two yards away, arms crossed, hip askew, staring at her resigned.
The girl is bawling. She must be having a tantrum, I reason. Mom must be sick of her tantrum. But then after I walk past I hear an unmistakable wet, sick sound.
“Why am I throwing up?” the girl gets out between sobs of misery.
“Jesus, Mary*, I don’t know,” says Mom, apparently a bit taken aback that she has to witness this scene at all. “Because you’re sick. Quit freaking out on me.”
*Mary is not her real name.
Posted by: Martin McClellan
On the date of: July 13, 2006 07:01 PM