Punchline | Samantha Leming

Everyday, immediately after class, I head off to work at Lins Bakery, a place where I have worked, quite happily, for the past five months. I work nights, but that hasn't prevented me from becoming fairly good friends with my manager, Shauna. Shauna reminds me a lot of my mother; they're both white, middle-aged, stubborn managers. In my time there, I've also come to know some regulars, and that takes time. Especially when it comes to Shauna's children. This fact became especially poignant one day a few weeks ago, when I was working with one of our newer employees, Corinn.

Shivonne, Shauna's daughter, came into the store that day, and sure enough, made a bee line for the bakery to see her mother. The young, quite pretty, black woman was nine months pregnant (due this week), and had her two children in tow. Both the children went running into the bakery shouting for Grandma, and were eagerly scooped up by Shauna. Corinn was introduced before long, and then the visit was shortly over.

Not long afterward, Corinn looked at me and said, "Wow! Shauna's daughter-in-law is really pretty." Everyone started snickering, and so I felt the need to tell the truth, that Shivonne was actually Shauna's daughter, not her daughter-in-law. Well, as I explained this, Shauna approached, having heard the laughter of my coworkers and I.

"What's so funny?" She asked, and I told her what had happened. Shauna reiterated the fact that Shivonne was her daughter, and was about to elaborate when Corinn spoke up again, asking, "Well, how did that happen?" Shauna looked at her, a smile on her face.

"You're eighteen Corinn, do I need to explain that?"