I was putting Little Man down for bed tonight while my husband was rocking Baby Girl. We were laying there chatting and heard BG fussing.
“Sounds like she’s giving Daddy a hard time, huh?” I commented.
“She sure is,” LM responded. “She must be like one of those hot girls. And when I say ‘hot girl,’ I don’t mean hot like the fire place.” Why did I ever tell him not to say hell?
“Uh…what kind of hot do you mean?” I asked Little Man, who is SEVEN.
“You know what I mean…a hot girl! They’re mean and always slapping someone in the face. They mostly live in big cities.”
I somehow managed not to laugh. “And who are these hot girls, exactly?”
“I don’t know. But they’re out there.”
“Are there any hot girls in any tv shows or movies you watch?”
“Not even Transformers or The Big Bang Theory?” I asked.
“No. But they’re out there, because Gregg from Diary of a Wimpy Kid talks about them.”
Whew! As funny as that was, I was so not ready for my baby boy to be talking about girls.