Do the Math

This is what happens when mommies try to teach their kids to count. Someone's liable to get impatient, like.

When in line with five other really tired, hungry people behind you, that is SO not the time to teach your kids economics.

...

"I want a slushee. A pink one," Megan declared. The elderly cashier looked positively orgasmic with delight. Well, roll me in sugar and call me cookie, isn't that fucking precious.

"That will be ONE DOLLAR, AND EIGHTEEN CENTS!" the cashier hollered. Because we all know that if you don't understand the math? Holler. No speaka dee English? Holler. If Crystal has a migraine? Holler.

"Ok." Megan whipped out her Hello Kitty coin purse and with her tongue poking out, methodically began counting out pennies.

Sweet bleeding Abraham, someone fucking gut me and cover me in bleach. It will be less painful.

"And eighteen cents!" Megan declared after what seemed like an hour. The entire line behind her breathed a collective sigh of relief.

As I inched forward, using that "breathe down your neck so you'll move faster" mentality, the mother spoke.

"Now, your turn, April."