I often wonder if people act the same way when they were kids. You, but just in a mini version. My mother told me a story the other day that I feel like best sums me up as a person, and after my mother told me this story I am certain now that, at least with me, not much has changed.
Apparently when I was little my mother said I was full of questions and was a very observant 3 year old. Hmm…sound familiar. Also, she remembers that I would say whatever it was I was thinking…good, bad.inappropriate (ha of course). It didn’t matter; if I thought it, I found it necessary to let everyone know. Years ago someone said that my mental filter was broken.
this is proof that I probably never had one.
Well I was about three and my mother took me to a McDonald’s and while she was ordering she set me up on the counter. However, much to her chagrin she noticed that the guy taking our order had some intense tattoos. His tattoo was of a giant snake going up and down both of his arms…in perfect sight for her chatter-box three year old to notice. I just laugh envisioning my mom noticing last minute and realizing her mistake moments to late to prevent me from seeing these impressive displays of artwork. She tried to order as quick as possible because knowing her inquisitive child, I would probably say something extremely embarrassing if I noticed the tattoos.
Umm...Quarter Pounder and uh, kids meal ...quick. (Nervous glances towards me)
“Would you like cheese?”
“Cheese.....yeah sure.” (More nervous drumming of the finger nails. Eyes darting between the snakes and me quietly observing the slithering artwork.)
“Anything to drink ma’am?”
“Yah that’s fine...how much?” (Receipts go flying as my mother rummages for money as quick as possible)
I stayed quiet the whole time. Impressive right? As my mom picked me off the counter to go sit and eat she probably closed her eyes in relief that I had kept my mouth shut. However, we all know this story doesn’t end with me remaining quiet.
As she picked me up to leave, impressed at my silence, she says that I simply looked up at the guy and very matter-of-factly said…
“Like your snakes.”
With that my mother whisked me away to finish my kid’s meal and hope that my happy meal toy would distract me from further questioning the tattoos.
It could have been a lot worse…
And thankfully my taste in tatoos has changed since then.
3 comments:
haha that is so great.
i have been thinking about that sort of thing too lately.
i brought several pictures from home from when i was growing up to see how i have changed but came to the same conclusion.
p.s. you said mini version and that means you were thinking of mini kenny's. weren't you? *nudge nudge lol
just found your blog, hilarious! i can totally imagine this happening when i was little- my poor mother. i hope you're doing well!
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