From the Mouths of Babes

I was recently asked to conduct a physical fitness course for humans of much shorter stature. I refuse to call them kids because for the most part, they are much more mature than I, and I would be insulting myself in doing so. And everything is obviously all about me. Duh.

The tinier versions of our species are perhaps the most adorable, affectionate, innocent, tell-ya-like-it-is, fun-to-hang-around-with tots that ever existed. For the most part, that is. I enjoy my role as babysitter, teacher, "best fwend", etc. because I never actually have to put on the dreaded "mother" hat when it comes to discipline, potty training, bedtime, eating vegetables, and so on. Therefore, in the eyes of a child, I am way cooler than all you Moms out there because I am simply not a Mom. For at least 10 more years that is.....just so there's no confusion regarding this.

Back to that "tell-ya-like-it-is" characteristic........During class, one of the little boys with piercing blue eyes dressed in his gangsta shorts and Air Jordans raises his hand to ask a question. I was confused as to what this question might be considering that all the farther I had gotten in my class introduction was "Hi.....my name is --"

I called upon the red-headed, fair-complected, albino child (trust me....this info will be important to know in the next few sentences) and he abruptly stated the following:

"HEY YOU! How come you are brown? You must go to the tanning place like my mom. I don't understand why being brown is so cool, lady! Dad says Mom thinks being brown means your prettier and she spends too much money turning brown and putting fake nails on. Do you think you're prettier just cuz your brown? Cuz I think white girls are just as pretty as brown girls."

The following were all options as responses to this young man:

#1. What the eff happened to diversity training in schools these days?! I'm Mexican you little shit. Let me guess.....you are an Irish ginger kid with no soul who spends his days drinking ale and harvesting potatoes. (sorry to my Irish friends....I tend to stereotype when I get angry)
#2. Brown? Really? You think I'm the color of poo? I'd like to think of it as more of a "bronze-ish-mocha"
#3. Go tell your fake brown Mama that she needs to have an important discussion with you regarding what NOT to say in public.
#4. I agree with ya kid! I know plenty of white girls that are just as pretty as the brown girls. BUT.....the "brown" girls are naturally better at housework and landscaping thus making them better housewives. SO THERE!

So....what exactly did I say to the kid?!

Nothing.

Why?

Because I lost bladder control laughing too hard, crossed my legs, and waddled to the potty room.

Suddenly all attention transferred from my poo-colored skin to my need for an adult diaper.

Keep laughing kids.....
Cuz this brown-skinned, diaper-wearing lady will soon become your run-till-you-puke fitness nightmare.