Last week we were sitting in the train station house waiting for Sweet Bear’s school bus. It was rainy and cold. An old Swiss man walks in. We exchange bonjours. I have seen him once before. At that time he had on the same hat. It resembles a Santa’s hat but smaller and not red.
Petite Clown asks me real loud, “Mama, why does that man have on a clown hat?”
She is looking right at him pointing at his head while she is asking me. The fact that she pronounces clown the French way doesn’t help.
That’s what I get for forgetting to duct tape her mouth shut before we go out into the world.