My Kid’s In My Head
Posted in Neutral on Oct 2nd, 2008
Me and the family were talking over dinner about a party my M/C is throwing next weekend and my wife asked if she was getting in free. I said she could if she worked the event and that I’d probably have her work the gate, collecting the entry fee from attendants. But then I remembered her recently injured thumb (she cut herself in a musical/food preparation activity gone horribly wrong) and joked about how she’d probably contract some flesh-rotting disease from the money with her open wound.
“Yeah,” she agreed. “We don’t know where that money’s been.”
“Oh, I think I do,” I said, picturing bills inserted in various orifices at seedy stripper bars, but I stopped myself before going on because my 12-year old daughter was at the table. “I’d say where, but we have young ears listening.”
“I know exactly what you’re thinking, Dad,” my daughter interjected.
“I don’t think so,” I said. “I really, really don’t.”
“You’re thinking of strippers.”
Holy shit. My kid’s a mind-reader — and she knows I’m a pervert.
