Not to be confused with utter UTTER humiliation

Stopping to pick up groceries with the kids is never fun, and for some reason stopping to pick up one thing seems even worse - it isn't logical, but the bother of  getting everyone in and out of the car, traipsing into the store, NOT buying everything the kids want, finding that lone item - it's just a huge pain.  This particular time, the culprit was a gallon of milk.
The boys were a bit younger, four and five I would say, and we had to stop at Hannafords on the way home. We piled out of the van, found the milk and had made it to the express lane without incident.  I was handing some money to the cashier when I felt an insistent tapping on my leg.  Zach was standing just behind me, and was not going to stop tapping until I acknowledged him, so I looked down to ask what was up.  As I was glancing down, a couple of things happened:
Zach said, "Mommy, look!"
And I saw a very large woman in line behind him.
Time slowed as my brain began to put two and two together, but Zach was not slowing down. "Look, Mommy!" he said again, pointing this time.  "She has a really big bottom!"
Horrified I quickly looked to see if she heard while my arm reached out of its own accord, yanking Zach over to me. My face was on fire, the cashier was handing me my change, and Zach wanted to keep talking about it.  I looked him in the eye, steel in  my voice as I said, "Zach, STOP TALKING."
His face crumpled at my tone. Blindly I grabbed the milk, my two boys, and turned to make my exit, praying the poor woman was unaware of what was going on.  But Zach wasn't done.
"Mom, you won't listen to the the truth!" he wailed.  We were almost to the door and I knew if I kept dragging them quickly toward the exit I would be in the cold fresh air and maybe able to start breathing again, so I ignored him and kept going. 
"MOM!" he yelled. "LISTEN TO THE TRUTH, MOMMY!!"
We made it to the van, and I got the boys inside as quickly as I could.  I lectured with gusto.
"We do not use the word fat. We do not point at people. We never talk about the outside of people, we talk about the inside. We don't want to hurt people's feelings."  Zach stuck with his argument that I should listen to him when he is telling the truth, and shouldn't get mad. Somehow I knew I needed to get my point across, but temporarily gave up once Gabe piped up from the back, in all of his big brotherly glory:
"Yeah, Zach.  Next time, go up to the lady and say 'Hi, you're really skinny!' "