I was speaking at a women's organization, and they asked if I would mind standing in a reception line following the meeting. The program chairperson was quite persuasive, so I agreed to do so. The speech must have gone well, because the ladies coming through the line were saying nice things to me, and smiling as they shook my hand.

Pretty soon I noticed a little boy standing in front of me. He looked straight at me and said, "Your speech stunk!"

Well, there were more ladies coming through the line so I just ignored him. But a little while later he came through the line a second time. Again, he placed himself directly in front of me and said, "We heard all your jokes before - and they weren't even very funny."

That bothered me a bit, but there were still people in line, so I continued shaking hands and greeting the ladies. Then I noticed that this young boy was in line for a third time. He got up to me, and this time he said, "You'll never be invited back here again!"

At this point I really didn't know what to do. I figured he was too little to hit, and I was too big to cry - so I shrugged it off as an occupational hazard and continued greeting the ladies.

Wouldn't you know it, a little while later I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, this bratty little kid in line for a fourth time.

At this point the child's mother must have noticed him too because she came running over to Dwayne, leaned over his shoulder, and said, "Oh, Mr. Woerple – that's my son, Billy. Please don't pay attention to him. He's only five years old. You know, he's just at that age where he repeats everything he hears."