If a Seven Year Old Calls You Fat- Believe ‘Em

The number one thing I can appreciate with young children is their honesty. They bring no hidden agendas. They have yet to become tainted by the media, or the world that surrounds them. They give it to you straight up. If you ever want to know if your new hairstyle is ridiculous, or rocking; just walk past a playground around three in the afternoon on a school day. If riotous laughter and pointing ensue, then you know you’re screwed.

In 2012 I had ACL surgery on my left leg, and a requirement of my rehab was wearing an obnoxiously large brace on my leg and crutches for six weeks. The reaction of any child under the age of five upon seeing me hobble past was priceless. One young girl and her sister followed me from aisle to aisle one night in Walmart. As I finally stopped to place a box of aspirin in my basket the older of the two approached me. She stood in the middle of the aisle like a superhero with one hand on her hip and the other pointed at my leg and yelled, “Heeeey! What in the world happened to you?” I tried to explain the complexities of torn tendons and muscles, but after about five minutes I ended up telling them I fought a tiger. Dumbfounded and confused, they left me alone.

Little did I know, a few weeks later I would become the victim of yet another kid drive by. I was in the classroom of a very good friend of mine who happens to be a teacher. The kids are awesome, and I always look forward to visiting. On this particular instance, we were en route to a happy hour after work. I was dressed in my Happy Hour Finest. I had on a figure-flattering sweater dress and high heeled boots. It was the kind of outfit that would turn heads as you walked by, but wouldn’t get your ass whooped by your grandmother if she saw you in it. It was also one of those rare occasions where my hair was on point. The only thing I lacked was one of the fans they use on music videos to make your hair blow seductively in the wind and some theme music. In my mind, I was winning! Until…….

One of the students from the class walks up, wraps their arms around me, and begins to rub my stomach. “Oooo, baby? My mommy just had one too.”

Kids, gotta love ’em.





photo credit: World Bank Photo Collection <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/10816734@N03/32353991612″>20160706-Madagascar-Arief-2176</a&gt; via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/”>(license)</a&gt;