God, I love my nephews. Mac, "W" (as he unfortunately has asked to be called) and Henry are three of the smartest, sweetest little boys I know. And of course, I'm completely impartial.
Last week, Mac and W went to work with me for a couple of hours since Mac had a day off from school and W had an eye infection (oh, to be in kindergarten!). As we were driving back to my house, Mac said, "Look! There's the Waffle House we go to."
"Yep, that's it."
"Isn't there a Tiffanys next to it?"
"Um, not the kind of Tiffany's that your mother shops at." (Tiffany's next to the Waffle House is a cut-rate stripper bar.)
"Oh, well what kind is it then?"
"It's a yucky, nasty bar."
"What makes it yucky and nasty?"
Quick glance in the backseat to see how much the 6-year old W is paying attention. I lean closer to Mac and whisper, "Naked ladies dance around there."
"Sick!" Pause, pause, pause. "What about the hair? I mean, do they, like, shave their parts?"
Almost have a wreck. "What do you know about that? Do you and your friends talk about this?"
"No, no, of course not. I was just wondering."
Another glance in the backseat. W still working on the short story he's writing.
Another 3 minutes pass and W says from the backseat, "I'm never going to a bar like that!"
"Oh yes you will, William," his 9-year old brother says, "when you grow up you're going to want to go to a place like that."
When I was telling the story to a co-worker the next day, she tells me that something similar happened to her the week before. She's a workout queen and has recently begun using the "Pole Dancer's Workout" and had ordered a pole for installation in her house. She was volunteering in her son's classroom (at his Christian school) and had stepped out when her phone rang. Her 8-year old son was putting the phone down just as his teacher returned to the classroom.
"D, what are you doing?," she asked.
"My mom's phone rang and I didn't want her to miss a call and now I need to write this message down for her."
"Okay, go ahead." Pause as "D" begins writing the message.
"Miss Smith? Are there two P's in "Stripper"?"