Truth is stranger than fiction

I come from a long line of over-reactors (reacters?) and embellishers. In many cases you can take what they (my ancestors) say, cut it in half and you're close to the truth. Because of this, I tend to downplay things and stick to the facts, however mundane. Sometimes I'd like to spice things up, add a few juicy details to make my stories more interesting, but, more often than not the truth makes the better story. Truth is stranger than fiction could be the title of my life story. In fact, I've just entitled my life. There you have it. Having prefaced this entry, I was grocery shopping last night with my 3 year old. Big mistake normally, but I had her fed and happy and we managed to get one of those carts with the Fred Flintstone car attached so we were in great shape. I was concentrating on labels because I am shopping for gluten-free food and I could hear my daughter saying something, but it doesn't seem urgent. I'm reading and thinking and then I understand what she is saying:

Daughter: That is a big butt!

Me: (hitting the deck, stage whisper) Honey, don't say that! (Look around at all the shoppers and smile sheepishly)

Daughter: Mommy, do you see that big butt?!

Me: Honey! (frantically pushing the cart from behind the yogurt man's inventory) Stop saying that!

Daughter: (now realizes Mommy is freaking out) Did you see the big butt? hahahahahahahahahahahahaha!

Me: (careening down an aisle with a cart that is literally hell on wheels, one wheel won't turn and one is making a god awful screeching sound) You have to stop saying that! (kneeling down) Honey, you could really hurt someone's feelings. (make sad face)

Daughter: (looks down, very sad) Oh, I sorry Mommy. (5 seconds pass) Mommy?

Me: (ready to forgive) What, Honey?

Daughter: That was a really big butt!