After eating lunch at my mom's house, my husband and eldest son began to load the car with our belongings. I gabbed with my mom and sister while my youngest son wreaked havoc upon the living room and hallway.
As Son #1 and his dad exited the front door, they came upon the new neighbors standing on the sidewalk casually smoking cigarettes. Son #1 eyed them and exclaimed in a loud voice. "Smoking is bad!"
My husband's eyebrows shot up to the sky. He muttered to Son #1. "Don't be rude."
Son #1 would not be deterred. He self-righteously announced. "Smoking can kill you!"
"Shhh!" My husband responded tersely.
How my husband wished the ground would open up and swallow them. Yet, he stoically continued with Son #1 to the car. The neighbors stared possibly out of disbelief. Six-year-old children can be excruciatingly honest sometimes.
With all of Son #1's proclamations about the evils of smoking hanging in the air, my husband hurriedly tossed our things into the back seat. Quickly, he and Son #1 climbed into the car.
When Son #2 and I got into the car, my husband told me the story. I giggled impishly as my husband said. "Don't look at them."
As we drove away, I said with a touch of chagrin to the neighbors who just happened to be out of earshot. "Welcome to the neighborhood."