Note to self: Shhhhh......

Okay. Here's the thing about me. I may, on occasion, have a slight touch of road rage. I detest slow drivers. They irritate me to no end......(sigh)....... and I kindof have a tendency to be verbal about it. I know what your thinking....Alecia, be verbal? Never. But, alas, it's true. And apparently, my son has been listening to me! The nerve of that child...

So the other day, (and by other day, I mean sometime within the last year) we were all sitting at the Costco food court eating pizza. A couple tables down I see the sweetest, most adorable old couple sitting together eating their pizza. They keep glancing over at the four of us with this look in their eyes, which I can only imagine must be nostalgia for days gone by. They must have been thinking of the days when they were young, and heard the pitters and patters of little feet running about in their house. You could almost see the tears glistening in their eyes...

Just as we are almost done with our pizza, my sweet son Andrew looks over at the older gentleman and says:

"Hi! Do you drive slow? Do you drive 4. Miles. Per. Hour???"

The gentleman is clearly caught off guard. He has this look of "What the hell did that kid just say to me?" mixed in with the remnants of nostalgia he was previously feeling. What was I doing, might you ask? Oh....dying. Dying of utter embarrassment because I know exactly where my son has heard about old people driving slow and at the exact speed of 4 miles per hour. I. Wanted. To. Die.

So, I smile one of those sheepish "please excuse my child" smiles at the older couple, you know the ones - kids will be kids, sort of thing. But it was mixed in with such horror, that I'm sure I looked like a serial killer.

Me: "Come to the bathroom with me, NOW!"

Andrew: "But I don't have to go!"

Me: "Yes, you do. I have to get you cleaned up!"

Andrew: "But I'm not done eating my pizza!"

Me: "Sure, you are sweetie!"

So, I drag him to the bathroom and while we clean his face and hands up I say to him:

Me: "Andrew, that was not a nice thing to say to an old man. It's not nice to ask old people if they drive slow. I know you've heard that from Mommy, and I shouldn't have said that. It's not nice. I don't want to ever hear you say something like that to an old man ever again, okay?"

Andrew: "Okay, mom."

I'm surprised! He's not fighting it or asking why 9 million times. Whew! So we walk back to the table, where Jason was just finishing throwing our stuff away and I said I wanted to refill my soda. So, off to the soda machine we go. As I'm standing there filling my soda, I see Andrew walk up to another elderly gentleman and start talking to him. I have no heartburn over this because, you see, I've already taken care of the previous situation, so I just know he's gonna be on his best behavior.

Andrew: "Hi, my name's Andrew."

The man smiles. I see Andrew start patting him on his back.

Andrew: "That sure is a nice jacket you have on, with the Unites States of America Flag on the back."

I look over and sure enough, the gentleman is wearing a black leather jacket with the US flag on the back. The man smiles and nods at Andrew, most likely thinking about how insightful and patrotic my young son is to notice such a thing. Whilst continuing to pat the old man on the back, Andrew looks up at me and quite innocently hollers:

"Hey, Mom! Is that a nice thing to say to an old man!?"

NOOOOO!! I couldn't believe that he had found another way to embarrass the crap out of me again!!!! And again, the man is just stunned. He doesn't know what to say, because he just got backhandedly insulted by a then, 5-year-old. And sweet, sweet Andrew - here he was, trying to be nice - trying to do the right thing and he still managed to ruin me.

I couldn't get out of Costco fast enough!

So, here I am, in the old familiar place, thinking that Andrew cannot possibly out-do himself after this one, but I have come to learn that this is simply not true. As long as Andrew is alive, he will always out-do himself. I know he will. I tell you, this kid will give me gray hairs before I was ever supposed to get them.