Gavin and I were in Target and he burped out loud in the aisle.

Sigh.

I told him that was impolite, especially in front of the pretty girl at the end of the aisle. (I don’t know why that matters – haha. I am trying to work some angles to raise a gentleman here, and figured I’d secretly rope this poor gal into my stellar parenting scheme of the minute. I assume that telling him it’s impolite to burp in front of me probably serves more as incentive than prohibitive, so she was the winner. I thought, at the very least, the realization of other people hearing him might give him pause? To be fair, I probably would have roped in whomever was at the end of the aisle – today it just happened to be a pretty girl.)

His reply? “I think she liked it, Mom. She’s laughing!”

Sure enough, she was smiling at the rows of mascara in front of her. I know there’s nothing amusing about picking out mascara, and since we were the only three in the aisle, I had to assume she was, in fact, laughing at his burp and my subsequent admonition. Or she was a crazy person that likes to laugh alone while shopping for mascara.

Great. Discovering that girls think you are funny at six years old is just what he needed. He giggled for a solid three minutes after that happened, and even repeated to the story to me on the car ride home: “Mom, remember when I burped and made that girl laugh?”.

Haha. I’m so losing.