Monday, June 28, 2010
So, I moved...and I've started working. I work as a delivery driver, primarily. A fancy title comes along with it. I've been working even though the store isn't officially open. And in that time, I've done two deliveries. The first one was just a TV, nothing special. The second...well. My second delivery was two children's bedroom sets -- one white, one dark. It was while I was setting up the white one up stairs that my tale begins. There was a small child, a girl of perhaps four years. She was jumping about the room excited to watch as I set up her new bedroom set. As I'm attaching the headboard to the bedrails, I begin to talk to her: "Excited to be getting your new bed?" "YES!" "You like the color white, or the other color downstairs?" "White is my favorite color." "So what do you think of the dresser? Pretty cool, eh?" "It's awesome!" "I've got some pretty cool furniture myself. My dad and I built it." "What's your daddy's name?" It is at this point that I should have clued in and shut up. But I didn't. To me, it was a harmless question by a four year old. So I told her my dad's name and asked her what her father's name was. This was the response: "I don't know my daddy's name." Oh... But, she followed up with: "I'll go ask!" Then I hear from the bedroom: "Mom, what's my daddy's name?" A moment later, she returns to say: "My daddy's name is Bob!" Yeah. Note to self, to mention anything about parents. Could be a touchy subject. Especially, as I found out, if the woman has had five kids from five different men. Bad indeed. As an aside, though, I'll have another post up in the future about what's been going on in the past month.