Stopped to get gas on my way up north just now. I was staring at Isla in the backseat but the guy at the next pump must have thought my gaze went his way.
“My tattoos must offend you, but you don’t have to stare.”
Sure, he was covered. Mohawk. Punk bumper stickers. Nothing I haven’t kicked with before.
“I was staring at my daughter. So now who’s judging who?”
I just smiled and shrugged my shoulders as I finished my fill.
Not all suburban mamas are stick in the muds, dude. I think you look just fine :)