I don't have many talents. Really, I don't. I'm really mostly passable at stuff. I do have one super power that God must have known that I'd need . . . I don't embarrass easily. I have pretty thick skin when it comes to what other people think of me and my brood. My sister-in-law always was worried that her boys would yell "PENIS!" in the middle of Meijer so they learned that they have a "potty part." They are now teenagers and next time one kicks the other I'm going to ask if it hurt their potty part. I'm sure that will earn me a fantastic Christmas present! I just never worry about that stuff. I don't care if the old lady next to me squeezing melons (and by melons I mean . . .melons) thinks I'm a terrible mother. Whatevs. Until today . . . .
We were dining on our nuggets, waffle fries and sweet tea (Guess where we were?!?), Wyatt played in the play area. I suddenly hear a crowd of small children belting out a very off-key version of One Direction. being led by Mr Personality. I smile and shrug. When you've got a teen sister, these things happen. I'm pretty sure my brother knew every word to "Pour Some Sugar on Me" when he was 5. I catch his eye and crook my finger to tell him it's time to come out. He grabs his shoes, opens the door, and yells loud enough that the fry cook hears him . . . .
"MOM! I WAS PLAYING WITH BLACK FRIENDS!"
Cue the crickets.