I Have Lost My "Edge"

5 PM. Crowded SEPTA bus. I'm standing in the aisle. J.Q. is ensconced in his "Lil' Danger to Self and Others" baby backpack. He's usually more well-behaved than the average adult SEPTA patron (e.g., when you catch his eye, he'll chirp, "Hiiii!", rather than, "What the fuck you lookin' at?"). Tonight, however, our bus is moving through rush hour traffic at a crippled sloth's pace. The windows fog, the riders get ornery and J.Q. begins to feel bored/silly/sadistic. With a devilish gleam in his eye, he grabs a handful of my hair and gives a vigorous yank*.

And you know what? I actually resist the urge to yell, "Stop it! Mommy only likes it when men who aren't related to her do that!"


* He has also begun yelling, "Ock-a-GON!" whenever he spots a stop sign, however... that alone is worth a good bit of searing scalp pain.