Pawpaw, Granna, Landon and I went to Garden Ridge yesterday and had a great time buying all sorts of little things we have been needing for a while. We especially enjoyed their $1 clearance tables that held a multitude of treasures we were eager to snatch up and take home.
We separated our loot and Landon and I went through the checkout first as we had many more "necessary" items than Granna and Pawpaw. The checkout clerk was very nice and even patiently allowed our three year old helper to load the counter.
I paid our bill and Landon and I stood to the side as Granna and Pawpaw checked out with the same cashier. Evidently Landon's unobstructed view of the nice clerk sparked a surge of toddler truth serum to run through his tiny veins and out his louder-than-an-intercom mouth.
Landon: "Mommy wook!"
Mom: "What Landon?"
Landon: "She has a weally, weally, WEALLY, big hiney!"
Mom (half asleep, I assume, and dumb enough to ask him to repeat his already thunderously shameless comment): "What did you just say?!"
Landon (pointing excitedly towards our sweet cashier's unusually large fanny): "Wook! See? She has a weally, WEALLY, WEALLY big hiney!"
I turned on a dime, my little tactless toddler in tow, and whispered vehemently my latest sermon on political correctness and the importance of not hurting someone's feelings as we marched as fast as I could carry him to our vehicle.
Landon just smiled at me as I placed him in his car seat, obviously too young to grasp my sentiments, but still in awe, I could tell, of the bodacious bottom he had just discovered.
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