The Pitfalls of Early Reading...

For those of you who travel I-85 northbound through Atlanta, you will know of which billboard I speak.

Dear Pink Pony,

First, thank you. Thank you for entertaining my very young and innocent children. They often grow impatient in the car so you were a welcomed diversion. Sure, you are a strip club; but any disapproval I would feel toward your illicit billboard was eased by the sweet giggles elicited from my 5-year-old reader with a serious weather fascination.

"Scattered Panties?" Calder asked incredulously and then erupted into laughter after seeing the billboard with a blue sky raining thongs and undies and captioned with the aforementioned "forecast".

And then 3-year-old Lee chimed in, "Scattered panties? What?" More giggles.

"If there were scattered panties, then we couldn't even see the sky to know what the real weather is." Calder speculated.

"Scattered underwear!" More laughter.

"Scattered Pull-ups!" Oh, they were whipping themselves into a frenzy.

Lee could barely get out, "Scattered thunder panties!" They were gasping for air now from the hysterical howling.

Oh, Pink Pony, you didn't.

And, then for the next five minutes it was "scattered" everything. At least we weren't talking about panties anymore. You know, Pink Pony, I at least can be grateful that there was no writhing, nearly-naked chick plastered on that billboard. Is it just wrong to name a topless bar "pink pony?" Take two of the most innocent and quintessential symbols of girlhood and use it to describe a strip club?

Tomorrow, scattered Huggies with a chance of high gastrointestinal winds.