Dad, there's a black man outside!

Yesterday I had a very uncomfortable experience. I hope it never happens to you.

So I'm in my home office working nicely. The wife and three of the four kids are out of the house. Emily, the five year-old, is playing on the computer in the front room.

I hear her yell out to me: "Dad, there's a black man outside!"

Now as you may know, kids will make lots of loud noises and yell out odd things from time to time. So I guess frankly although I heard her yell something, I wasn't really listening. It didn't sound urgent anyway, so I just kept working.

Again, this time much louder: "DAD, THERE'S A BLACK MAN OUTSIDE!" Nothing ominous in the voice, just simply stating a fact as she saw it.

OK, so now I'm walking towards the front room and my brain's processing the whole thing. There is clearly a man at the front door, probably black, and Emily has seen him through the front window. (I thought I heard the doorbell ring?) I look out the peep hole. Yep, just what I thought. FedEx guy. African American FedEx guy with a package.

You getting the picture yet? My mind started to race. Sizing up the situation, I had to figure there was about a 90-95% chance that the young man standing outside that front had heard every one of Emily's words. The poor guy's got to be thinking that he's about to deliver a package to a white-trash, hillbilly, racist family, right? What do I do?!

I know, I'll just address it head-on. Something like, "You know, you must have heard her -- my daughter. I don't know why she felt the need to specify to me that you were a "black" man. I mean, we like black people -- we have tons of black friends, hundreds! Oh, you know what? I do let her watch The Family Guy and The Cleveland Show from time to time. I bet that's where she picked it up!" No good. Abort plan. It will never work.

In a split second I made the decision. I would just open the door, accept the package and just pretend the whole thing never happened.

So that's what I did, but with an embarrassing twist. As I accepted the package, chatted with the fellow, signed his electronic pad, I guess I must have felt the need somehow to let him know that I liked him a lot. No need to worry about Dan Green being a racist! I was super nice. I smiled. My eyes were incredibly friendly, my voice warm and charming.

As I said goodbye and closed the door it hit me that the poor guy must have thought I was coming on to him. Boy, I hope I never have to experience anything like that again.