Since she was old enough to speak, Daughter 1 has done things that could, conceivably, get me into trouble. Once time she pointed to a big ol' biker dude and said, loudly, "I'll bet that guy stinks because he looks dirty." She was two at the time. He would not have hurt a child, but I believe in my very scared heart that he would have hurt her mother.
Instances like this happen all the time, therefore, I'd like to share a little feature with you from time to time that I call "Tail Kicking." You'll be able to read all about the times that Daughter 1 has (almost) gotten my tail kicked.
Last Saturday was almost a tail kicking. We were at the sea lion exhibit at the zoo (as opposed to the sea lion exhibit at the mall or the hospital or the neighbor's house ... I digress). There was a young girl at the exhibit dressed in leggings and a t-shirt with a hoodie tied around her waist. She was also wearing flip-flops.
Daughter 1 turned to the adult female beside her who wasn't me, and said, loudly, "Geez! Look at that little girl's cold toes. What kind of momma would let her wear flip flops out in the middle of winter." The she looked up at the adult female who wasn't me and said, "Oh, you're not my momma." Then, she hollered for me as the adult female who wasn't me scooped up her flip-flop wearing daughter and left the exhibit.
I, like the chicken that I am, hid behind a metal pole while my own daughter hollered for me.
Tail kicking averted. For now.