“So the other day Chubby Hump asked me for a time slip and I asked him, as politely as I could muster – ” I was attempting to explain to the director that sometimes one of the parents – Bob – confuses his work life with our school, and it’s mildly amusing and sometimes frustrating and a probable cause for concern.
She interrupted me by choking and spitting her juice into the sink. “Did you see what you made me do?” I looked. “Give you an excuse to hack up your homemade V-8?”
“What did you call that poor man?” I bit my lip. I refer to him, in the comfortable private environs of my brain, as ‘Chubby Hump’. I had just referred to him as that out loud apparently. “You called him Chubby Hump!” the director answered, while I continued my silence and fished for the right words. “Well,” I started, “He’s, uh, chubby, and, uh, he’s really horn – um, lascivious, and he – ” She cut me off with a wave of her hand. “Oh no no totally I completely get where you’re coming from, I just was taken aback by the name. ‘Chubby Hump’. That man is a Chubby Hump, whatever that is.”
And she walked off swirling her atrocious veggie smoothie.