The other day in the van my five year old daughter exclaimed excitedly, “Did you see that lady walking back there?”
“Mommy, she looked exactly like a telephone pole.”
My eyebrows went up. “Really?”
“Yeah, she was sooo tall and sooo skinny!”
“Really??” I said, trying to imagine the proportions of such a person.
“Yes, and her clothes were exactly the color of a telephone pole.”
And I spent half a second feeling sorry for the poor soul dressed like a telephone pole. And the next three blocks feeling rueful because not even a 5 year old would ever call me telephone-pole-lean.