Knock Knock

We went to Chuck E. Cheese's today. Otherwise known as Chuck E. Diseases. It just feels so "germy" there. Last time we went, Chaos was sick the next day.

Anyhow, on the way there, Chaos got quiet in the back seat. I could tell he was thinking really hard.

Suddenly he said, "I don't want that man to knock on my arm."

WHAT?!

"I don't want that brown man to knock on my arm."

So I ask him what man he is referring to. Where is this man?

"At Chuck E. Cheese. I don't want that brown man to knock on my arm."

At first, I thought maybe he was referring to Chuck E. himself. He's not brown, but he's gray. So maybe he has his colors mixed up. But knocking on his arm?

Then it hit me. When you enter, there is an employee at the door who stamps your entire family with a unique number, so that they can ensure that each child is leaving with the person or group they came in with. The last time we were there, there was a black man doing that job.

So, he is the "brown man" who "knocks" on my son's arm.