Punks

On the way up to the lake the other day, Andrew & I spied a trio of teens rebelliously decked out in punk paraphanelia. I think one of them even had a hot pink mohawk. They were soooo cute. (Yes, you can tell you're a parent when you think teenagers are cute.) I was in the back of the minivan feeding babies, and pretty much unseen because of the window tinting. Andrew, kooky booky he is, flashed a happy thumbs up to the teens. He actually was approving of how hard they were working to be disaffected. It was a good effort.

But the rebellious teens didn't really know how to react. They just didn't have it in their mind that he could be approving of them. At first, they waved confusedly, acknowledging Andrew's thumbs up happily. But then they realized that wasn't very punk rock and the wave turned into a flip-off.

It was very funny. What more insulting thing could a 40something guy in a minivan do to a bunch of teens who wanted to be rebellious and countercultural than approve of their whole look? He didn't mean to be insulting, really, but he's such a crazy thing that all in all, he just ruined their poor rebellious little day.