What the...?

You know the moments in comedy shows where music is playing in the background and then somebody says something so audacious that the music stops and sounds as if the needle has scratched its way quickly off the record? I had one of those moments yesterday:

While getting the groceries out of my car, my strange but all-too-nice, twenty-something neighbor girl approaches me and engages me in the following conversation.

Neighbor: Hey how's it going?
Me: Good. How are you?
Neighbor: Fine. Where's the baby?
Me: She's inside with daddy.
Neighbor: Oh that's good. She is getting to be a cute little munchkin.
(At this point I am not in the mood for a long conversation, what with the gallon of milk, large bottle of liquid detergent, and Diet Coke fridge pack I am trying to haul along with my three bags of groceries.)
Me: (Trying to walk away therefore ending the conversation.) Yeah I think she's pretty cute.
Neighbor: Do you mind if I call her "munchkin?" Because some people don't like that.
Me: (Mostly concerned at this point that I will drop my precious Diet Coke fridge pack.) No that's fine. I don't care.
Neighbor: Ok, I just think "munchkin" is cute. I mean, it's better than "shithead."

Wrrrreeee! Needle screeches off the record, music stops, and I just want to drop my fridge pack and laugh my can off. But instead I made it inside without wetting my pants so I could share with Ben. The fridge pack was going to make this week great but I think "shithead" now has it covered.