Fatman

I picked up Brandon from nursery school today and stopped off at Pathmark to pick up a few things before returning to headquarters for the evening. Brandon is happpily trotting along side me and I am grateful he has not pulled anything down from a shelf yet. (That barely audible "clean-up aisle 6" announcement is usually us). I stop in the baby aisle to scan the contents of a Gerber Graduates toddler meal for Eric. All of a sudden Brandon, in his loudest outside voice says, "Mommy look...its Fatman...Fatman"! He is jumping up and down and pointing at a...shall I say...a pleasantly plump/borderline jolly man who also happened to walking down the aisle.

I am gagging right about then. As I am about to offer a feable apology for Brandon's laspe in the judgment that he has yet to fully develop, it turns out that there were also action figures and toys in the aisle. Fatman was passing what Brandon was really pointing at - a Batman toy. By the time I put this all together, Fatman had kept moving while grumbling some indiscernible obscentity under his breath. To make matters worse, we see Fatman in our checkout line of course and when were exiting the store sans the Batman - embarrassing to say the very least. Did I mention Brandon started speech therapy last week? Well, at least he's got his adjectives down pat.