I have the three younger kiddos (8, 9, and 10) in the car and the 9 year old says out of the blue, “So, you know who’s a sex magnet besides you?”
A sex magnet? Me? Did I hear right?
…and where in the world did he hear that phrase?
I move on. “No, who?”
“Katie Perry,” He says.
“Oh,” I say, “You like Katie Perry?”
“Who doesn’t?” he says.
Sex Magnet, huh? Let’s see: This morning, I attended a Weight Watchers meeting (proudly down another pound), then drove my 12 year old to a chorus rehearsal. I returned home and retrieved the 9 year old for a run to Urgent Care to prove to his mother that he does NOT have chicken pox. I won. Or Lost. He may actually have scabies. As we waited in the pharmacy waiting area for his medicated cream, he loudly asked several times, “What is it the doctor says I have?” I kept telling him to pipe down because no one needs to know. I don’t think the woman on the phone (the one loudly telling her friend she was waiting for cold sore medicine) would have minded so much. Tonight, I have to slather the kid’s skinny little body with lotion. All of it.
I then ran to the mall to pick up a birthday present for someone in the 10 year old’s class. Birthday at the arcade tomorrow. The 10 year old MAY be going but the jury is still out as it all depends on how clean he can get his room to be. And here I am, a short while later with all three kids at the school, waiting to hear the 12 year old sing with the chorus. First, we have to sit through a children’s string orchestra which sounds remarkably like a hundred cats in a blender.
Sex magnet? Me? Sure, why not!
