yuppie scum!
My friend Shana and I have been spending time moving our flesh around at the local Y, trying to sweat on a regular basis.
Since S and I have flexible schedules, we have been taking advantage of mid-morning classes sometimes, which are inhabited by a lot of Active Seniors. We are honorary Silver Sneakers!
There are also a lot of moms of toddlers and babies lurking around at the same time. The tiny creatures have a habit of kind of getting underfoot, due to the geography of the front desk, and the human flow can turn into a bit of a logjam.
Shana and I had sweated through our low-impact class and were near the front desk when a little guy of about 4 was ahead of us, between us and the exit.
“Murdoch!” his mother intoned. “Do you see the people you’re in front of? What are you going to say now?”
Poor Murdoch apologized. As soon as Shana and I were out the front door, Shana added what Murdoch doubtless was thinking:
“In my defense, mother, YOU NAMED ME MURDOCH.”