We went to pick up some tickets the other day at the US Cellular Center. Here's what Paige said. Mind you, we were like a foot away from the lady helping us.
P: "What's that smell?"
M: Ignore and hope she leaves it alone.
P: Pulling on my arm, "Mommy, what's that smell?"
M: "What smell honey?"
P: Pointing to lady. . ."Her!"
M: "Oh, do you smell her pretty perfume?" I was really hoping to diffuse the convo quickly.
P: "It's stinky."
M: Once again ignoring.
P: Louder this time. . ."It's stinky, Mommy!"
M: Getting down to whisper to her, "Paige, that's not nice."
I was mortified. The poor lady just pretended she didn't hear and was very helpful. We are going to have to work on some manners!
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1 comment:
Hmm - this sounds similar to a story my Mom tells about my brother Ryan. When he was little, they were walking and passed a very large man. Ryan repeated, with increasing volume each time, "He's fat, Mom. He's FAT, Mom."
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