While Alexis doesn't like the pizza that the husband and I grab for late dinner every Thursday, she does VERY MUCH so like Taco Bell. It's a special treat for her after a long day of school and dance classes. Dinner doesn't happen until nearly 8:00, so why not let her have her Doritos Locos Cool Ranch Tacos with beans in place of meat, right? Right.
As I pulled up to the window for my first stop on the "Pick-Up Dinner Train," I realized someone new was working the window. He was a teenager, perhaps 17 or 18, with dark hair and even darker clothes. He was wearing black from head to toe, with a familiar black sweatshirt. The sketches and symbols and words screamed the identity the young man has chosen -- Anarchist.
It took me a millisecond to remember all of my friends in high school who wore identical sweatshirts. Seriously -- completely identical. There are some things that will always stay the same, it seems. "Anarchist" clothes are apparently on that list.
As I was pondering how little things have changed when it comes to so-called rebellion and teens, I thought about where those friends are now. One is a skateboard riding "tough guy." He now is the father of three little girls. He spends his day surrounded by glitter and sequins. Another is a stay-at-home mom who spends her days wiping little butts. Yet another is a twice-divorced mother of a teenager who is now dealing with herself in the form of her daughter. Rebellion comes in the form of brightly dyed hair, black clothes from head-to-toe, and attitude for miles. Like mother, like daughter.
As the young man who works at Taco Bell reached out the window to hand me Alexis' dinner, I wanted to laugh. He likely thinks he's so original, but the same things have been happening for twenty years. And he probably has no idea that his future may very well be filled with domesticity and complete averageness.