The Perfect Answer?

It's inevitable if you're a parent.  It's kind of a rite of passage, so to speak.  One of these days, whether you expect it or not, you're kid is going to put their foot in your mouth.

We're sitting at CPK on one of our weekly dinner excursions.  My 4 year old daughter is sitting across from me facing the rest of the restaurant.  It's close quarters in this particular section as diners sit practically elbow-to-elbow.  The host places menus on the empty table to my right as he begins to seat a party of two.  I see my daughter's eyes lock on to whomever is about to sit down next to me and the corner of my eye fills with the shadow of the approaching patron.  I shift my field of vision slightly to the right, identifying my newly-seated neighbor who has captured my daughter's attention.  And then the next 3 seconds played out in slow motion...

I wave of terror flows through me as my daughter's finger begins to point at the gentleman to my right.  I know what's about to happen and I have about .5 seconds to think of a way to counter strike.  Unfortunately, I'm two glasses of chardonnay in and I possess the reaction time of a salted slug.  It's too late.  The Death Star is clear to fire.  Her finger fully extended and eyes looking directly in to his face she asks, "Hey, why that guy have a big tummy?"

Admittedly, I was shell shocked even though I saw it coming.  I was useless to respond.  My wife, however, was on the ball...sort of.  She immediately responds with "Why don't you introduce yourself, Lu?"  OK, I was thinking a diversion or something may have been the better choice than direct engagement, but, again, at least she responded - which is infinitely better than the drooling look of duuuuuuh I was offering up at that moment.  She didn't seem to want talk to the guy.  She was reloading.

I came to, gathered my senses and managed to interrupt and divert her several times as she was intent on asking that same question until she got an answer.  Attacking her flanks gave my wife enough time to scramble for an offensive move.  "Daddy, why don't you go take Lu to wash her hands."  Perfect!  Remove her from the scene and figure out what to do next.  I'm not taking her to the bathroom, that was just a red herring so that I could remove her somewhat naturally without looking too obvious. Maybe the big guy - and, yes, he was very obese - missed the whole exchange and, to him, it was business as usual for a family with small kids.  Right.  Who am I trying to fool here?

We walk towards the front of the restaurant.  I now had to think of how to answer her well enough to squash her curiosity.  I'm not good on my toes in uncomfortable situations.  The best I could muster was to ask her not to ask again so that we could just eat our dinner and go home for dessert (a diversion!).  It was a sucky response, I know.  But, it was the best I could do. Of course, it didn't do shit for the situation because she asked again as soon as we sat back down.  It wasn't until after several minutes of intensive distraction that she finally forgot about the guy and moved on.

However, she was owed an answer.  I explained to her on the way home that the guy's big tummy was what makes him special.  Just like some people have blue eyes, brown skin, or even a "beauty mark" like she has on her waist.  She seemed to get it at that point.  Hopefully. 

My wife and I both agreed that, for some reason, this was a more uncomfortable situation than we would expect from a similar encounter with someone with a disability, deformity, impediment, etc.  In those situations, direct engagement with the person seems more appropriate.  I bet most folks with those types of disabilities are prepared to answer a direct question.  But, fat?  Could we expect him to have a canned answer?  We couldn't wrap our minds around the perfect response for her.

How would you guys handle it?