How Lowe Can You Go?

Lowe's has become one of my regular haunts.  Lately I've been there a couple times a week.  So, when I told my boys we were heading to the hardware store again, their groans of disappointment didn't surprise me in the least.

As I walked to the the back of the warehouse I was stopped by a big, middle-aged man in a red apron. 

"Can I help you?" he asked politely.

"Yeah, actually I am going to need some wood cut," I smiled back.

Accompanied by this helpful employee, I walked to the woodcutting area and carefully picked out the board that I needed.

The saw buzzed loudly with anticipation while the stout man positioned the wood carefully.  As he slowly bent way over to operate the huge machine, his denim pants slipped down low on his bum.  This unintentional loss of modesty went completely unnoticed by this poor man.

My eyebrows raised in surprise, and my hand shot up to stifle the uncomfortable laugh that threatened to escape from my mouth.  I shifted my position and averted my gaze.  Just then, Ethan caught my eye.  He was curious about the saw and  had been watching in amazement as the saw sliced through the thick board as effortlessly as a scissors cutting through paper.  I saw Ethan's eyes take in the large saw and the area surrounding it, they came to rest where the red-aproned-man's pants had been just moments earlier.  His brown eyes widened and a mischievous grin bisected his face.

The next moment Ethan was at my side pulling at my sleeve.

In a split second several images rushed past my mind's eye.  Memories that embarrassment had permanently etched in my brain.  Moments where my children, in their innocence, had inadvertently made mortifying comments. Years ago, Conner's finger pointing at a woman just feet away loudly asking, "Mama, why is her bum so BIG!"  Ethan, chubby cheeked and only four years old, shouting secretively behind a cupped hand, "Her breath STINKS!"  More recently, Aubrey stage whispering, "His teeth are YELLOW, huh mom?"

This time, I wasn't sure exactly what Ethan wanted to say, but I was sure I did not want him to say it.  At least not in our present company.

"MOM!" my eight year old whispered urgently.

I pointedly ignored him.

"Mom, mom, mom!"

Ignoring him wasn't working, I tried another approach.

"Ethan, not right now.  Will you go find your brother? " I begged through a forced smile.

"But Mmmm-om, I have to tell you SOMETHING!" the pulling at my sleeve had a new intensity.

I just had to keep him quiet until the wood was done and we were out of earshot.  

"Just a second, okay?" I leaned closer to my little boy and looked deeply into his eyes, willing him to understand.

His finger started pointing at the employee in a poking motion, "Mom! Puh-lease, can I tell you something?"

I gave in.  There was no ignoring, no distracting and no pleading that was going to dissuade him, so I leaned in close to minimize the volume and hopefully the embarrassment.

Ethan was thrilled to finally have my full attention.  He stood close to me and took a deep breath, I closed my eyes, bracing for the worst.

"Mom!  He's not wearing any safety glasses!"

My eyes blinked open in surprise.  I looked at my son's face.  The relief of finally saying what he needed to was written onto every feature.

"You're right," I said with a huge sense of relief, "he should definitely be wearing safety glasses."