My 3 yr old daughter is always funny, and is acutally one of the funnier people in my world. Her brutal honesty is typical of any 3 yr old and often must be coralled in public.
But sometimes things unravel and you get a situation like this:
Standing in line at the grocery store, a heavy-set woman waits in front of us. I watch my little girl look directly at the large woman's well-rounded fanny for a good minute. The wheels are definitely turning in her head, and I think, she'll probably just whisper whatever terrible (but unintentional) insult she brews. Out of nowhere she pokes the woman in left cheek, and proclaims in a full-singing voice, "Wow, you must have huge underpants!" Knowing my daughter, she was genuinely enthralled with the thought of how big this woman's underpants actually must be. Not anything other than trying to comprehend chonies of that magnitude. As the blood drains from my face I force a nervous laugh and instinctively pick up the closest magazine...only to realize that its a full-fledge cover of a very fat Kirstie Alley reading, "Kirstie's Weight out of Control".
Needless to say, the big woman's underwear were a topic on conversation for 3 days straight and I wasn't even mad about it. We talked about color, polka-dots, smell, sweat, farts, and anything else that could be involved in those cavernous undies. Now this brings me to a philosophical fork in the road. How does one get to the point where they are OK going to Mervyn's, walking to the big lady section, sifting through the 4 brands of "XXXL" ladie's underwear, and slapping them down on the checkout counter? When your underwear are big enough for a 3 yr old to really contimplate the meaning of life, maybe its time to visit good ole Jenny Craig. I'm not judging, I'm just saying, think about the kids for crying out loud!
