Ok, been a little serious this morning so heres a light break. A great story. :-) One November afternoon when my daughter was in kindergarten, I picked her up after school. She bobbed out to the car and crawled into the back seat. What did you do today? I asked. She couldnt wait to tell me. We learned that boys are different from girls, she chirped. Looking into the rearview mirror I could just see the top of her head. My teacher told us that boys have a thing the girls dont, she added. Well, yes they do... I said cautiously. Then she piped up again. Thats how girls know that boys are boys, she said. They see that thing hanging down and they know that hes a boy... I mentally calculated the distance home. Our five-minute commute already felt like an hour. Did you know that when the boys see a girl they puff up? My palms were beginning to sweat. Um...well... I was still searching for something to say, to change the subject, when she asked, Why do the girls like boys to have those things? Well, I didnt know what to say. I mean, what woman hasnt asked herself that very same question at least once? Oh, well...um... I stammered. She didnt wait for my answer. She had her own. Its cause it moves when they walk and when girls see that they know theyre boys and thats when they like them. Then the boy sees the girl and he puffs up, then the girl really knows he likes her too. And then they get married. And then they get cooked. That last part confused me a bit, but on the whole I thought she had a pretty good grasp on things. As soon as we got home she hopped out of the car, fishing something out of her school bag. I drew a picture, she said. ...you want to see? I wasnt all that sure I did, but I looked anyway. I had to sit down. There, all puffed up so to speak, looking mighty attractive for the ladies, was a crayon drawing of a great big Tom Turkey. His snood, the thing that hangs down over his beak, the thing that female turkeys find so irresistible, was magnificent. His tail feathers were standing tall and proud. She was a little offended that I laughed so hard at her drawing. I laughed until I cried. But I told her I loved it - and I did - and she got over her pique. That was the end of that... for her anyway. But Im not so lucky. Every year I remember that conversation, and to be honest, I havent looked at a turkey or a man the same way since.
Posted on: Thu, 28 Nov 2013 07:58:51 +0000