After an overly successful shopping trip at good old Marshall's earlier this week, the following interaction occurred between the cashier and me.
Cashier with ample bosom adorned with tattoo: Do you think it would be appropriate to get a green lantern for my 7 year old son?
Me: (looks around to see if she is really talking to me.) : Um,...what?
Cashier with ample bosom adorned with tattoo: Do you think it would be appropriate to take my son to see the movie "Green Lantern?"
Me: (Brief image of Ryan Reynolds all green runs through my mind. Becomes side tracked with thoughts of Ryan's wash board abs. Quickly jerks back to reality as ample bosom lady has stopped ringing up my items and is waiting for an answer. ) Oh...What is it rated?
Cashier with ample bosom adorned with tattoo: PG-13.
Me: And your son is 7?
Cashier with ample bosom adorned with tattoo: Yes.
Me: (Wonders if this lady is serious. Why is she asking me parenting advice? Start to question my purchases. Did I accidently buy Mom khakis? No, that's surely not it. Is she just making small talk? Why didn't she just ask about the weather or tell me how non-mommy my khaki capris are like a normal person? She's being so nice it would be bitchy to say it would probably be fine to take her son to see the movie in 6 years when he is 13 because isn't that what PG-13 means after all? Realize I haven't said anything for an extended period of time. ) Well I'm sure it would be fine if you are going to be with him. Then if he has any questions you can discuss it with him afterwards. (There! That sounded very intelligent and reasonable. I feel pretty proud of my answer.)
Cashier with ample bosom adorned with tattoo: Yeah. That's true.
Me: Yeah. He'll be fine. Good luck! (I have no idea what that movie is about. )