When I was a kid in 3rd grade I went to a catholic school, a setting I never did well in but that’s a story for a different day. We were doing an art project and it was time to hand in the project. As I walked past my teacher who was bent over helping a student, I turned back to glance at her only to see her standing there looking at me with the strangest look on her face.
It wasn’t until years later and giving contemplation on her bizarre countenance that I realized what had happened.
My dad used to slap my mom’s ass when she walked by, and I had picked up the habit. Monkey see, monkey do, you know what I mean? She hated it, and quickly cured me of that habit. Or so I thought.
After reflection, I came to the realization that when I walked past her juicy round teachery ass, I must’ve slapped it. And in retrospect, the look on her face was hilarious.
Can you imagine the conversation in her home that night? A third grader had slapped her plump catholic ass the same way a hopped up patron at a strip club checks a passing stripper walking by.
You just can’t buy entertainment like that. It’s a naturally occurring event.