I had one of those weird moments today, walking down the street in Nob Hill, a trendy neighborhood near downtown and the urban University District today. As my husband and I pushed Luke's stroller down the street and stopped in Urban Outfitters to wander, we were cut short by my son's high pitched scream, followed by dirty looks by the "cool kids" who were shopping. For a second, I was embarrassed, and then I remembered....I don't care. I don't care if my kid's squealing with joy at the stimulation Urban Outfitters can provide (with its Indie vibe and waaay too corporate hipster environment) offends anyone? I had a blip of a thought. I was once in their shoes, shopping for overpriced "cool shit" just to make a statement that I was oh so individual.....just like everyone else in there. I used to be the one giving kids the dirty looks when their parents couldn't keep them quiet. But you know what? I don't care, because I've already worn those shoes, and now, my shoes are different...and someday, those spoiled little trust fund neo hipster wannabes will wear mine, and they won;t be from Urban Outfitters, that's for damn sure. It's nice being in a place so full of ego and realizing that nothing inside that place is important, or valuable of even necessary. It feels good. I can even laugh a little at the old me, for being such a narcissistic little jerk, It's funny the things you care about (and don't) when you realize that the world is not about YOU. It does not revolve to serve you and when you start serving this little person in the stroller because you love them so much you might explode, it all becomes clear. Everything else is just distraction. Someday, those people too will have kids, get old, no longer be as "cool" as they thought they were, and be forced to put on a new pair of shoes made of a different perspective....Even if they are from Old Navy. Hey, at least I can say i'm comfortable in mine.
Truth!
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