Wednesday, July 29, 2009

What, er, Eyes you have Grandma.

I took Tikki for 2 nice walks so far today. Funny how he didn`t bark at anyone except the slender, beautiful blonde who walked by on the other side of the street. I wonder if he picked up his love of looking at the ladies from Dar?

I’ve never been worried about my man who wants to look at other women, as long as he wants to come home to me. We all look, why not be honest about it?

I recall as a kid, going to visit my dad in the Okanagan and he would slo-o-owly cruise by the beach, looking at the “lake conditions” as he termed it. Then, he would laugh so I always knew what he was really interested in.

In later years, I lived with him by now and we were watching an awards show, probably the Academy Awards. Raquel Welch walked the red carpet with her hair piled up and styled into an intricate, ornate work of art.

She also had on a dress that was slit to her navel.

Me: “Wow, Dad! Did you see Raquel Welch’s hair? Wasn’t that something? Did you see her hair? I wonder how long it took to do it like that. Dad? Did you see it?”
Dad: “Hair? Hell, I didn’t even notice she had a head!”

So looking at the ladies is not discouraged around here. However, there was an exception made for our oldest grandson, Dom. When he was 3 I had to go get a new swimsuit. This would be classified as a Level 8 Catastrophic Event.

After wandering around the mall with Someone and Dom, I was ready to cry. I hate shopping at the best of times and a Level 8 occurrence could hardly be mistaken as one of the best of times.

Nothing looked right, fit right, felt right. It was a good thing we were going to a lake, otherwise I’d have to acquaint myself with the whale watching tour times so I could get out of the water.

Finally we went into Additionelle. They make clothes for real women with boobs and butts and curves. Big curves.

Dom was getting tired of being dragged from store to store and wasn’t listening very well so I took him into the change room with me. He amused himself by climbing all over and hiding under the changing room bench until he finally looked up to see what I was doing.

He exclaimed, surprised, “Nana! You’re naked!”

Then, after looking me up and down, (in his clearest piping voice), “And... and ... you`re FAT!

The entire changing room erupted into laughter. And he was firmly discouraged from looking at the ladies for a few more years.

Now, 4 years later, he has pledged his troth to Jayda but should he chose to follow the family tradition, he has to follow the same ground rules as any man I might be married to.

1) Look,
2) Don't comment,
3) Don't give yourself whiplash.
4) Or drive up onto the curb. Oh wait, that's only a rule for a husband.

Kids say the darndest things, indeed.

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