From the Mouths of Babes

Today my son and I walked to the bank. You know how quiet banks are inside, the kind of quiet that is only surpassed by libraries? While I held him in line (where I swear I could hear a feather drop, if only the partridge actually were in said pear tree), he played peek-aboo with the women behind us over my shoulder. Abruptly without provocation--and to my absolute horror--he announced at the top of his voice, "GET AWAY FROM MOMMY'S BUTT!"

I am pretty sure at that moment I could lead Santa's sleigh--Rudolph's nose be damned.