My husband spends time with a cute little tyke named Jordan. Jordan is 7-years-old and often (daily) says things incorrectly, or with just the right amount of seriousness that makes him easy to laugh at (daily). Today, Jordan joined us around our breakfast table and proceded to tell us a story about how he received a "female" on his computer the other day. Curious, I asked him, "A female what?" He looked at me blankly and said, "Just a female." It took me a few seconds as my brain quickly went through every possible meaning of "female" to a 7-year-old boy before I questioned him, "Do you mean an email?" He looked at me as if that was exactly what he had said the first time. I explained to him the vast differences between females and emails before he continued to launch further into his story. "Yeah, I got an email from my friend. But it had a picture of a female." Nervously, my husband and I looked at each other before pushing further. "Jordan, what was this female doing in the picture?" He looked at us like we were morons. "Nothin. She was a girl scout. She was playin' the piano!" (Oh, ok.... that should've been obvious....)
    Jordan then showed me the present that he brought me from his vacation to the East coast. I held it up to unveil a gigantic, touristy t-shirt which could easily fit my husband and his Italian belly. "Jordan gave me some salt-water taffy," my hubby said, trying to stifle a giggle as he looked at me and my new shirt. It's true... I envied his gift. But I thanked Jordan so much for the present, and then he kicked me in the butt with his next comment. "Yer welcome. I got you the extra large one, so it's just yer size." (My husband was shaking with laughter at this point.) For the record, I could shrink this thing 5 times and STILL have to use it as a night shirt! But he was so sweet to think of me on his vacation that I will happily sleep in my new nightgown this very evening. My husband, however, finds it commical to remention Jordan's opinion of my body, especially since yesterday I wore jeans that made me look "a little thick in the front and the back" according to my husband (good to know I get to look hefty arriving AND leaving). Coming from a 7-year-old little boy? Cute and worthy of a hug. Coming from my 33-year-old husband? Totally un-cute and worthy of a stabbing. Don't blame me, he made his bed!