Oh Grandma
Phones are dinging. Pinging. Singing.
Different melodies, some loud, most proud.
Skinny girls are walking around, not eating lunch.
Maybe they have not eaten lunch for months.
They are all taller than I am, probably thirteen or fourteen.
It is a preteen clothing store, and I am with my granddaughter
She is trying on swimming suits, over my protests.
I said “Your mom does not want me to let you buy a bikini.”
“Oh, Grandma!” she said, and laughed at my old-fashioned ways.
She ended up buying two of them; they both fit in a sack big enough
For a pair of salt and pepper shakers.
We are shopping for her birthday.
She will be fourteen on Friday.
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