We were in the car, the radio was on, and I was idly listening to the "Question Of The Day', which ran something like:
Okay, guys and girls! If there was one person who you would switch teams for, who would it be? Which celebrity would make you play for the opposite team? Do you have a secret girl-crush? Is there a male star that you can't take your eyes off? Call us now!
The first guy that called in blurted something about Vin Diesel, and I was turning his words over in my head
'I'd just get him before my girlfriend could'
and then there was a noise from the backseat and Cass
- holy CRAP, they're in the car! -
said 'Mom? Switching teams? What do they mean?'
and I opened and shut my mouth a few times and totally lied
Baseball, honey. They're talking about baseball.
And he was satisfied and I - well, I felt like a shmuck.
Not very pc at all.
Because even though I feel comfortable talking to my son about almost everything, discussing homosexual experimentation (when we haven't even hit the big What A Penis Is For talk yet) seems too much.
Tonight I need to clean out the pantry. I know, damnit, that the kid came with a manual.
I just need to find it.