Unbagging the Cats 1

Unbagging the Cats 1

Monday, January 30, 2012

The Lengths of Political Correctness

This morning, The Pony and I left home a tad early to arrive at school in time for my duty. But because this is Backroads, we ran abreast of a developing problem.

A bus pulled in front of us from a side street. It passed three houses, then put on its flashers and threw out the stop sign. I had time. But not a lot of it. I watched the small, pink-ensconced girl as her tiny feet pitter-patted down her sidewalk toward the school bus, in that joyous off-to-school gait known only to kindergarteners. Her parents stood on the front porch watching her, grinning from ear to ear.

"C'mon, little differently-abled girl! Let's hop on your differently-abled short bus so we can get rolling."

The Pony stopped reading in the seat behind me. I caught his glance in the rearview mirror. "Mom. You can't say that. It's not politically correct."

"What? I didn't say anything wrong."

"You can't call it a short bus, Mom. It's a length-challenged bus."

I stand corrected.


Stephen Hayes said...

How are we supposed to keep up with what's PC these days?

irishoma said...

Sounds like you had a politically challenged morning.

Val said...

You need a school-age child to chastise you when you let something slip. Something that seems perfectly innocuous, something that was socially acceptable a few decades ago. Like "don we now our gay apparel," which got a teacher in hot water for changing out "gay" for "bright" because he deemed it inappropriate, due to the kids snickering when they sang it.

Yes. I almost had to pull over to pry my foot out of my mouth.