I just applied for a new job. It would not involve food, beverages, or toddlers. Thrilling prospect.
Especially after last sunday when a three year old asked to feel my shirt. (Weird, I thought, a shirt fetishist at the age of three, hmm?)
"Mommy's shirt is nicer!" she said, just like that, matter of fact, no room for argument.
"Your mommy's not working." I said, crossing their name off the list of 15 people waiting to be seated.
Her parents apologized as their daughter outed them.
"It's fine, really." I said.
I seated them in someone else's section, and, sadly, because I am not a bigger person, let them squirm with the knowledge that they had somehow shamed the waitstaff.
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