Polite Society

Polite society can be defined as a group of people who care too much for their appearance to make an example of yours, yet don't care enough to overcome their reservations to save you future shame.

Children are not polite society.

Underdone humans are so impressed with their ability to observe something that they will not hesitate to make it known to all people within earshot. This is candid when other kids do it and mortifying if your own are the ones speaking.

It is a new loop around the nearest star and as such I have taken it on to be in better shape. My goal: 100 miles by the end of the month. Of running, not driving.

Week one went well as I didn't quit. I whined, moaned, lurched, slipped and cursed my way through several runs. Unfortunately due to busy schedules and incapably slow speed of my pace I hardly saw my family as a result.

I would arrive in the door limping and wheezing like Darth Vader on a bender. My family would be in the final stages of leaving for the children's evening activity. The final stages involve my wife badgering, berating, nagging and chasing the children out the door.

In an attempt to make the most of the 15 waking minutes I have with my children I chose to stretch within earshot of them. I strolled to the sink to get a drink, but received my fill before I arrived.

I had taken off my shirt as I was warm and didn't think it THAT inappropriate. I was at least half clothed. And I really wasn't thinking clearly due to what sounded like a partially collapsed lung.

My younger child turned to me, pointed at my bellybutton and said:

Her: "Daddy, you need to get rid of that."
Me: "What, my belly button?"
Her: "No, your fat."

Ok, so I am carrying a few extra pounds of blubber for the long winter. Apparently the 'humane comment' switch isn't active by default.

Me: "Ummmmm."
Her: "It's probably because of those."

She is now pointing at my 'man breasts'.

Me: "Huh? Wha..."
Her: "Well, it's ok, because Grandpa has a baby elephant."

My Dad, the man who taught me how to repress swears and put out fires with diesel fuel has a cute saying. When allusion to his "Molson Muscle" is made he says it's his "Baby elephant, only the trunk has come out so far."

This whole conversation managed to remove my pride, my dignity and any hope of reasoning with that child. It was a flurry of statements more hideously misdirected than the last. Which statement to counter first? I recovered enough to say:

Me: "I think Mom is waiting for you."

I'll let her Mom have the conversations on body image and how men can't carry to term baby elephants. Until then I think I'll only bring that one out to company I don't want to be invited back to.