My Mom Wouldn’t Let Me Get A Hermit Crab OR Cornrows At The Boardwalk

Needless to say I’m steamed.

This is a personal blog from contributor Skylar. These are Skylar’s opinions and do not reflect those of Michael.

March 28th, 2021

We were down the shore this past weekend. It stinks in March. I don’t know why my parents would even orchestrate such shit as the beach during Winter. But I like the boardwalk and the girl’s booties walking around and the smell of the sea. I couldn’t even be that mad because I fucks with it overall.

My dumbass sister came along so that killed everybody’s buzz, mostly mine, but mom and dad of course act tolerant of her horeshit despite boiling beneath the service. They probably wanna hit her. With her ungrateful ass. Always talking about wanting things and herself. What a fuckin’ loon. Worst part is they cater to her.

She can be cool to talk to sometimes though, when she’s not yammering about her appearance or asking my parents what the age of consent is in each state.

Anyway when we pull up to town immediately some herb is trying to start shit. Some dunce “bro” type guy, all tan with flowy hair and a Abercrombie kinda vibe (classically fuckable,) pulls up on his fruity lil’ mo-ped and shouts at my dad. “You can’t park there grandpa Boris from the Rugrats,” he’s yellin’. He’s callin’ my dad Grandpa Boris from the Rugrats. Dated ass reference and I don’t see it at all, plus you can’t talk to my dad like that.

I told him so. “Talk to my dad like that again I’ll stomp you motherfucker,” I said to him. He backed off. “It’s not that serious,” was his stance all of a sudden. He insulted my rattail and peeled off.

Then we hit the boardwalk and mad shit was closed, but I swear girls straight have their asses out nowadays. It was like 32 degrees and cheeks were on parade son. Titties poppin’ outta tube tops lmao yooo you gotta love it. Girls are wylin’ as of late. Mad interracial relationships these days now too, which is cool to see. I nodded at all the couples and said “respect.”

My first stop was a t-shirt shop, but I wasn’t looking for a t-shirt. Though they had some classic prints lmao. Catdog smoking crack. Spongebob smoking crack. The villains from various horror franchises together smoking crack. I love that shit but I’m only at this place to get a hermit crab. I’ve wanted one so badly for mad long. I think they’re dope as shit and they require like no care. One of the sicker crustaceans to me.

Problem is my mom has some horror story about one of our redneck cousins begging for a hermit crab one year, then losing it at our rental house. My mom found it crawling up the curtains. Scared the hell out of her.

So obviously I’m thinking she won’t let me get one. I find her in the store and she’s like “Did you see the sweatshirt with Hey Arnold smoking crack on it?” And I’m like “yeah,” lmao. Then I drop the question.

“Can I get a hermit crab?”

She doesn’t even hesitate, she just looks absolutely fuckin’ disgusted and says “No, N to the O, No.” That’s final I guess but I still kept asking. The man behind the counter with the missing teeth and very hairy chest tried to do some convincing but she told him to shut up. She insisted hermit crabs are for white trash.

I asked her if she could buy me the R.I.P Screech shirt with Dustin Diamond smoking crack on it, but she also said no to that. We kept it movin’

My trifling ass sister insisted on froyo and a tongue ring, both of which she got. Guess who the favorite is? Honestly that’s crazy to tell you the truth, this dynamic. She’s a pretty princess and I live in the cellar like I have a goiter and foot fungus.

I only wanted one more thing at the boardwalk. And when I saw the sign out front I was hype. “Hair braiding. Cornrows.” It said. And the cornrows were exactly what I had been hopin’ for

I’ve wanted cornrows ever since I heard Latrell Spreewell choked his coach. Never thought I could rock them though and my hair was always shorter. Right now it’s long as hell so I know I got the locs for it. I stop before the little braiding stand and ask my mom, “Mom can I please get cornrows?” This time she did hesitate. She almost seemed sorta sad or distraught, like somebody got kidnapped. My toad ass sister was of course like, “Are you serious.” Just not gassing me up on this. Never supportive. She was saying shit about appropriation and using online words and I thought to myself who cares bitch?

To my fuckin’ surprise mom was in agreement with her, and gave a strong no. Whack as hell by all standards and frankly I was done dirty. Just nayed on all requests. I kinda get it but also don’t, and it seems I’m built differently than my family. As in my interests aren’t that crazy, they just don’t vibe with it. I’m Tarantino and they’re Mini Mouse aha. They don’t understand that edge and hardly do shit for me. But my sister’s getting whatever doing whatever and she’s already had an abortion.

I didn’t get a hermit crab or cornrows, but we at least stopped at Vincenzo’s. Maybe a top 3 shore pizza. Always been A1 except for the time the cashier girl had pinkeye. Shit was fire this time around though. That can’t make up for lack of braids and mollusk, but I’m always down for bangin’ food with my family. And even when my mom’s a hater, my sister’s the devil, and my dad gets carried away by the rush of a water main break, they’re family.