This morning the kids decided that they were forming a “chick club” – that would be a “club to get chicks.” They asked me for jeans (which previously were about as attractive to them as wearing a sandpaper suit) and also lollipops.
“Is that because chicks like lollipops?”
“No,” they replied as if I were a dummy, “Chicks dig guys who suck on lollipops.”
I stand corrected.
After I noted that ‘chicks’ don’t like guys whose hair looks like they slept in a trashcan, they let me brush it, and style it, complimenting my expertise with gel and hairspray. It felt so good to briefly pretend I had two girls, except when I realized that I’d wasted half of my hair product, and imagined what it would be like to have to share my stuff. I am not a good sharer.
I also schooled them on the way to summer camp…