It was nearly Christmas. I, like half my town, was standing in line at the post office holding several large packages. My children were standing with me. My mind was preoccupied wondering how much longer I could hold my boxes without dropping them and wishing there was a table nearby. So when my son said, “Mom, that woman has a big butt!” I didn’t really hear him. The woman ahead of me showed irritation, and I heard the man behind me chuckle. Nevertheless, without thinking, I asked my son to repeat what he had said, but to do it louder.
“That woman has a big butt!” he said again, this time with feeling. The woman threw a scowl over her shoulder, and the man behind me laughed even harder. Then my daughter suddenly felt musical. Tired of standing in line, she began prancing around and flapping her arms, singing, “Big butt! Big butt!” My hands were full, and with no place to set the packages down, I couldn’t grab her. I could see steam coming from the woman’s ears, and I’m sure the man behind me had wet himself from laughter. Eventually, after semi-veiled threats, I was able to stop my daughter’s capering, but the damage had been done, many times over.
The post office line never moved so slow. -Jenny, mother of 6