Saturday morning LG and I went to the grocery store good and early. I wanted to get in, get out, and hunker down in my toasty warm house the rest of the weekend.
Now. I am not a big purse carrier. I carry a crossbody bag at the most and just keys and a card or two at the least. Saturday I had my crossbody on with my puffy jacket over it. This is important…
LG and I are standing looking at something when she scoots closer to me and whispers something. I don’t hear her, so I ask her to repeat herself.
LG: Mama. Why are you standing like that?
Me: Standing like what? What are you talking about?
LG: You know, with your nuts poking out like that.
LG: When you stand like that your nuts poke out.
Me: Dear God.
Me: LG. First of all, I don’t have nuts. Girls and women don’t have nuts. Boys and men do. But wait! Don’t call them nuts. They’re called testicles. And that’s my purse poking out from my jacket, not my alleged nuts. Why are we having this conversation? God help me. Who have you been talking to about nuts? I mean testicles? Do you know that’s not considered polite conversation? You can get in trouble for saying that. Lord. I’m rambling….
LG: My bad.