Smokin\’ high school chicks

Elise scheduled a dentist appointment for us a few weeks ago for cleanings this past Wednesday. So in that two week window I did some mad flossing so Dr. Cox wouldn’t get pissed at me for not flossing.

Marilisa cleaned my teeth. Marilisa is awesome because she sings while she cleans teeth. She’s a folk singer and it’s nice to listen to her sing her folky songs about folky things while she’s folkin’ with my grill.

Your humble narrator and his wife both have clean pearlies, no cavities, no extreme tartar and no gingivitis. Whew.

On the drive that morning to Dr. Cox’s office I stopped at a red light. I looked at the car to my left and saw two young ladies in a nice hand-me-down sedan. The two seemed of the high school sort and both could easily be perceived as student council representives and/or cheerleaders at first glance.

The light turned green and the hand-me-down sedan accelerated through the intersection. I paced behind. I then saw the driver take a BIG tokeroony from a fluorescent weed pipe. Then she passed it to her copilot and she partook in the inhalation of the funky skunk. Tokeroony and the Funky Skunk would be a good name for a band. Or Dave Matthews’ next album title. I only know this vernacular because I listened to Cypress Hill in the college years. The smell of marijuana has always made me nauseous so I was limited to 40 oz. Olde English or Busch tall boys in my somewhat-remembered wild and wacky college days. All six years of them.

I couldn’t believe it. I officially felt OLD. “Those crazy kids!” I thought to myself. “What are they doing? All smoking the pot before heading to school to tend to their studies.” I thought about speeding up so I could drive along side of them, roll my window down and yell, “Are you on the grass? Is that what you’re doing? The reefer? You’re probably listening to that Puffy Kanye Daddy Diddy Cent music and wasting your lives away! Damn kids.”

The driver sped up enough to get in front of me and then turned into the high school parking lot.

I didn’t think much of it that day. That particular experience popped into my head this week as I continue to think about my unborn child’s life and what he or she will experience in it’s life. I can only pray that Elise and I can pass along our moral strengths and good judgement. And a Cypress Hill CD.