I realize that face-flaming embarrassment is just part of having a toddler who is smart and says exactly what is on her mind at any given moment, but that doesn't make it any easier when it comes up.
Especially when it comes up two days in a row.
Yesterday we met Uncle Zufall for lunch. He was running late, and as we waited, Lilah entertained herself by turning around in her chair to keep an eye out for Zufall - and to spy on all the other restaurant patrons. In particular, she seemed enchanted by the man directly behind us.
The gentleman was alone; he was a middle-aged, very heavy set guy with a completely shaved head, and he was sitting with his back to us at the table.
Without any hesitation, Lilah - in her sweetest little voice - says, "Mommy?"
"Yes, Baby?"
"Is that the 'Tato man?"
"I'm sorry, what?"
"Him. Is he the 'Tato man??"
I turned around to see what in the world she was looking at and it was then that I realized exactly what she was asking me: The back of this man's head was a perfect match for a Mr. Potato Head toy.
After the previous weekend at my parents' house, where she had played with mine and my brother's "antique" Mr. Potato Head, she had that shape on the brain and this man met the paradigm.
I. was. horrified.
But I stifled a giggle, because - seriously, y'all, the resemblance was uncanny - and just said, "Oh, I don't know what you're saying. Let's go get some food, ok?" and hoped he either a) didn't hear her or b) didn't understand that she had just likened him to a plastic tuber.
Thinking that comments like that were going to be a one-off occurrence was a mistake.
Today I stopped into Costco to inquire about the cost of new tires.
I noticed the manager of the tire center's name was Kirkland, which I thought was funny, since that is the name of the store brand of products at Costco, and I of course, asked him how many people a day commented on the match. As we engaged in some chit-chat about how he had become the unofficial mascot of our Costco, Lilah sweetly looked up at me from the buggy and said, "Who is you talking to, Mommy?"a question which she pretty much asks me every time I'm engaged in a conversation with someone who isn't immediate family (and sometimes even then).
"Well, this is Kirkland," I answered.
"OOoooh," she said. "He's black. Like the tires."
"Wait. What??"
"He's BLACK. Like the TIRES."
(I can't answer now because I'm dead)
Kirkland just kind of chuckled and said, "How old is she?"
"She's 2.5," I said.
"Oh, I have a two-year-old," he said, I hope by way of meaning, "I understand they say weird things sometimes."
Then I turned to Lilah and said, "Thank you for your strange observation."
WHAT WAS I SUPPOSE TO SAY?!
*sigh* I clearly need some lessons in damage control if I'm going to be out in public with "Little Miss Observe and Comment Loudly."
Anyone want to give me spin lessons? lol
2 comments:
I'm not sure if you ever get used to it... Thank goodness that stage doesn't last forever. When my best friend's daughter was 2.5 they were in a very busy large department store on a Saturday afternoon. They were standing in the cashier lineup waiting their turn and her little girl was monkeying around and hanging off of her legs, but my girlfriend (who was wearing a long denim skirt) was just happy she was being quiet and well behaved. As there was a kind of lull in the noise in the store, Rowan very sweetly, very loudly and very clearly announces "Mommy, why aren't you wearing any panties?". My girlfriend was absolutely mortified and she said the first thing she wanted to do was show everyone that she was, in fact, wearing panties. :) Rowan is now 9 years old but we still get a kick out of that story.
My mom's favorite story about my cousin, Kristie, is very similar to one of yours. I believe I had just turned four (according to my mother), which would have made Kristie 5.5. She was visiting and my mom decided she would take us out for Chinese food. Kristie was not, by nature, a sit-still-and-eat-your-lunch kind of kid, so she had turned around in her seat and was staring intently at the large man behind us. When he turned back and smiled at us, she did a visual scan of his entire body with her little eyes and blurted out, "Gyyyyyyaaaaaaaahhhhhh!!!" When my mother came out of the hole she had drilled for herseld under the table, Kristie proceeded to talk about the man's girth, very loudly, until my mother finally decided it was time to leave the nice man to his meal...and his dignity.
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