It's not the (surprisingly unwrinkled and currently dry) painted thumb.
Or the table.
It's the bands.
Silly Bandz that is. The next greatest fad. The next generation to the rubber bracelets known and loved from my own youth. How Greta -- seemingly innocently sheltered in daycare, it MUST be those corruptive big brothers and sisters, how dare they! -- even knew what these were, amazes me. She received a couple in a goody bag from school during her graduation, and immediately announced "Look mommy, Silly Bandz -- cool!" Fortunately, I'm not so out of the loop due to my constant interaction with the youth of today who wear probably 50 of these on each arm daily, I knew what she was talking about.
And so today, in honor of, well, Thursday I suppose, we let her pick out her own pack. This particular kind glows in the dark, an extra thrill. They have kept her quiet and occupied for over 20 minutes now, which beats the record of nearly any toy she owns. I suppose there might be more in her future. They're collectable you know. You can trade 'em. They're cool.
A grown man came in to Starbucks yesterday wearing one. I wanted to ask what shape it was, but refrained.
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