“I wrote ‘Dad’ and ‘Mom’ and ‘Casey.’”

“Who’s Casey? A girl in your class?”

“Yes.”

“Do you like her?”

(Pause) “Yes.”

“Do you think she’s cute?”

“I knew you would ask me that.”

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with thinking a girl’s cute. And if you ever have any questions about girls, you can ask Daddy, because I can tell you a lot. Do you have any questions about girls?”

“Yes.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Dad, what do girls like: soda or diet Sprite?”

I’ll have to get back to him on that one.

The dad and I both laughed. His boy, who looked maybe 2 1/2, was talking about me because I was wearing a hat. The little guy was staring up at me, smiling.

“I’m not a cowboy,” I said.

“Then why are you wearing a cowboy hat?” he replied.

Not a cowboy hat

The thing is, it really isn’t a cowboy hat; more of a modified porkpie. But it’s not like the kid has ever been to a haberdashery, so any explanation would have been over his head. Plus he was such a delightful young lad!

“I just like my hat,” I explained.

“Oh,” he said.

“Do you like it?” I asked.

“No,” said the little fucking brat.