Sunday morning all seven of us females are sitting around the table waiting for our food to be served; my 5 year old decided that she wants to be curious.

“Mommy, why does that man over there have his ears pierced?”

“Kamylle, why are you using your outdoor voice inside? By the way” I whisper, “It’s because he’s Metro.”

One of the other young ones, Casey, didn’t exactly catch what I said, so she began asking Lush’s little sister Brenna, quietly, what I told Kamylle.

After Brenna repeats what I said three times without Casey hearing it; my daughter – ever so graciously, takes it upon herself to announce to Casey and the entire restaurant:

“HE’S A METRO!”

Cue: Laughter . . .  hysterical, embarrassed, crying and doubling over in pain, laughter.

She has no internal edit button – like mother like daughter.