3amo

I've recently come to the realization that I am no longer part of the next generation, but instead I've become one of "them". "Them" being the previous generation. The old guys. This realization coming from the mouth of a 6 year old in the form of a very polite "3amo" (Uncle) during a recent shopping trip.

While I do appreciate the politeness of said 6 year old, I couldn't help but think "Who me??". I must have conveyed my confusion to her via the expression on my face, which I guess was somewhere between sucking a lemon and trying to solve a complex algebra equation in your head. The end result of said expression was to coax her into saying the blasted word a few more times "3amo, 3amo, 3amo".

As grown ups, we enjoy the luxury of education and experience to help us handle such situations, and my education and experience did nothing to stop her from saying it a few more time "3amo, 3amo, 3amo".

Now she was asking for it, so I did what any mature adult would do in my place, I stuck out my tongue at her and walked away. "Yeah, that'll show her" I thought smugly to myself.

As I walked away from her feeling all high and mighty, Something in the back of my mind was trying to tell me something. Was I wrong to do that? Did I hurt her feelings? Maybe I should go back and apolo … BEEP BEEP BEEP !!!

Oh yeah!! thats it !! I forgot to pay for the stuff I picked up.

I turn around and I swear I could just see the letters popping up above that little girls head.
R .. O .. T .. F .. L .. M .. A .. O.