accusing shorties

as i approached the front entrance of the public library today, i noticed the girl on the sidewalk. probably nine years old, round like a chick pea with two tapering legs sticking out.
she was eating some kind of store-bought, shiny foil-packaged snack, and stared sullenly at me as i neared her square of sidewalk.
i took stock of my own appearance as i wondered why she seemed to have such an attitude with me. usually kids don't hate me at first sight.
wearing: jeans, hoodie, baseball cap and glasses, red sneakers.
carrying: eight or nine books accumulated from my mom, brother, and myself.
enjoying a lollipop.
maybe she was angry because she didn't have the lollipop. or perhaps she's an undercover member of the fashion police, and was contemplating how close my red sneakers came to crossing the line of originality into the crime of ugliness.
either way, i kept my eyes on my pile of books, willing it not to teeter. i felt ridiculous as i realized that this girl was making me uncomfortable. that's my right as a person who is older and taller than her. i get to be automatically cooler and more judgemental. what is with kids these days? why don't they know these things? standing around in front of public buildings, eating their snacks and glaring at innocent twenty-somethings.
i attempted a smile as i entered her sidewalk square territory, but i imagine that the lollipop did its best to thwart that attempt. stick a lollipop in your mouth and then try a smile in the mirror. not pretty.
the grimace didn't change her calculating stare, unfortunately. it probably convinced her that i'm some kind of alien disguised as a human, for why else would i wear red shoes with my rose-frame glasses?
i hope i never see her again.