To the Kid on the Playground

You're about three-years old. You carry a pale around like you're the shit and you're a mini hipster wannabe. You told the kid I sometimes babysit, "Thanks for nothin," after he wanted his toy car back. Meanwhile, you were hoarding your huge, semi-wooden car in front of his face not letting him come within an inch of it. Then, you wanted to play with his ball and his cars and talk to me about how cool you are. If you see this, you suck.