...And Speaking of Chicks
When my oldest nephew was at that tender developmental age of 7, he was nothing but a gas factory. Fartburpfartburpfartbelllllchfart... You get the idea. He'd giggle through saying "Scuse me..." but I could tell it wasn't helping... So I used to tell him, "Hey. Chicks don't dig gassy guys..."
One day, my nephew had enough.
"Aunt Kelly, can you quit it with the 'chicks don't dig' stuff? It's stupid."
Two weeks later - without provocation of any sort on my part, my nephew and I had the following conversation:
"Aunt Kelly, do chicks dig guys who can cook?"
"Oh, yeah! Absolutely!"
"Well do chicks dig guys who listen?"
At this point, I was so enraptured with the thought, I just yelled, "Yes! They LOVE guys who listen!"
"Aunt Kelly? Chicks aren't going to dig me..."
sigh.
One day, my nephew had enough.
"Aunt Kelly, can you quit it with the 'chicks don't dig' stuff? It's stupid."
Two weeks later - without provocation of any sort on my part, my nephew and I had the following conversation:
"Aunt Kelly, do chicks dig guys who can cook?"
"Oh, yeah! Absolutely!"
"Well do chicks dig guys who listen?"
At this point, I was so enraptured with the thought, I just yelled, "Yes! They LOVE guys who listen!"
"Aunt Kelly? Chicks aren't going to dig me..."
sigh.
posted by Kell @ 4:55 AM
3 Comments:
At 6:07 AM,
Sarabeth said…
Oh, great story. Great!
At 7:02 PM,
Blue Eyes said…
What a cute story! I'm sure he'll grow up to be a charmer yet.
At 1:19 PM,
Anonymous said…
That's the difference between guys and girls until about age 30. Boys just don't care if chicks dig them. Lucky them!
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