With an innocent, offhanded little voice, she asked…
“Why does Mommy say that it’s not nice for Noah to stare at women’s chests?”
Chris falls on the floor and dies.
Later that night, after his miraculous recovery,he remembers the cursed conversation with his daughter (although he blocked out his stuttered response to her), and accusingly asks his wife WHY, in fact, he had been subjected to such a painful question.
You see, dear, it was all your Aunt Kitty’s fault.
A few weeks back, she came up from the coast to visit us for a few days. On the day that she left, she spent a good amount of time with each of the kiddos individually.
And the problem was, she had on this fascinatingly bright, contrasty, newborn-attention-grabbing shirt.
And, although Noah did give her a couple of smiles,
He spent the majority of the morning staring at her extraordinarily patterned chest.
And when I say majority, I mean the kid took up at least an hour obsessively zeroed into what he must have thought was the most colorful dinner presentation he’d ever seen.
So because we’re HUMAN, Kitty and I just had to make some jokes about it, and I said, one time, in passing, very casually, and offhandedly, even quietly, with no emphasis on it whatsoever,
“Noah, it’s not polite to stare at women’s chests.”
And apparently, that was Ali’s one takeaway from the entire day.
Go ahead, crown me Mommy of the Year right now. I know I deserve it.