Mortifying Moments

My youngest daughter is one of those kids, you know the type, that says whatever she is thinking, LOUDLY, in public. It can result in hysterically funny moments and some not so funny (ie mortifying) moments. She's curbed it somewhat since she's now almost seven and has learned what's cool and not cool to let fly out at the grocery store. It could have been the lasers shooting from my eyes that taught her that lesson, or the talking through my clenched teeth. Ah, the clenched teeth. My kids know it's serious business if Mommy is ruining her expensive veneers.

I remember being out once and it was clear that someone had let some, umm, excess air escape. My daughter and I were just continuing to shop and I hoped she wouldn't say anything about it. I must have jinxed myself, because she then proclaimed, "Did you toot, Mommy?" I started desperately trying to shush her (lasers, clenching) while also feeling my cheeks start to burn. Frankly, you know someone else IS going to think it was me that let rip that toxic stank. I tried to kind of move fast, away from the smell-which of course doesn't make me look guilty in the slightest-all the while telling her in MY loud, outdoor voice, "No, it wasn't me. It's just something stinky in the store, I guess."

I hoped she'd buy that and we'd be in the clear, but oh no, not this kid. "It's not the store, Mommy. It smells like toots. Why would the store smell like toots?" At this point, I'm doing the nervous giggling and moving faster than lightning. I'm pretty sure everyone in the store thought I HAD tooted, well, except the actual perpetrator who was problem killing themselves with laughter.

I could literally go on all day with tales of my woe at having a daughter that has no indoor voice. There were those typical ones, when she was much smaller, like why someone is heavy, or why they need a cane. Those are embarrassing, but I can quietly explain in a very PC way, under my breath. She now knows not to ask things that might hurt someone's feelings or point out their special needs.

Just when I thought we were in the clear, as I said she's almost seven, she threw me for a loop again. This time it was aimed and directed solely my way.

"Mommy, when I'm a lady, will I have boosies as big as yours? Cause yours are REALLY BIG."

You guessed it. So began the lasers and the clenching, coupled with the giggling and red cheeks.

Out of the mouths of babes. Did I really sign on for this?