I had to go get James' car registration taken care of because I was too lazy to put it in the mail before it was due. :-/ So I loaded up my brood in the grand ole' suburban and we went to the tax office. We arrive and while we're still in the car I gave them my normal warning speech. You know the, "Stay with me. No screaming. No running. No climbing on things. And for the love of Pete, PLEASE don't do anything to embarrass me." speech. We made it in the building without any running, screaming, or climbing. VICTORY! We waited in the line with minimal discipline needed. VICTORY! I got James' new sticker without any problems. VICTORY! At this point I'm starting to feel just slightly cocky. We start our walk down the hall, to the door.....we're almost there! I can see the car through the glass. A successful mission! I'm good! Three young children in tow and no issues! Then it happened. This very kind, much older gentleman opened the door for us. My sweet little Nathan went through the door and started to laugh and said, "Look! It's an old man!" Ugh. But that's not all. No, if that was all it wouldn't be so bad. He had to finish it off with, "Is he going to die soon and go to heaven to be with Jesus?" *Shaking my head* I don't know if the man heard him or not because I was too busy rushing across the parking lot before he could ask any more fun questions.
When we got to the car, I tried to explain that those are things that you shouldn't say. But he's 3. He's not going to get that concept for a long time. I just better brace myself for more.
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