I turned to The Zombie Elf. That three-year-old is such a ham. But he's gotten to this phase where he loves peeing in the potty. He shows off and tells me how awesome he is.
"I have a pee gun. Vroom . . . Vroom," he said. "Do you pee standing?"
"No. Girls sit."
"Oh," he said. "Poor, Mama." He wore a sad look, as if realizing I had no arms. "You can't pee standing?"
"I can, but I choose to sit!"
Why do guys think we're jealous that they can pee standing? It's an epidemic! Even little boys think we're jealous.
Later that morning, right before Cade ate breakfast, I looked over just as The Zombie Elf itched himself.
"I hope he won't do that when he's older," I said to Cade.
"All guys do."
"But hopefully not in public," I told Cade. "I went to school with a guy who itched all the time. The kids ended up calling him 'Cherry Picker.' No one wanted to date that kid. If The Zombie Elf keeps this up . . ."
"Well," Cade said, "all guys do that in public, but there are ways to go about it. Ways to be discrete."
"Are we really having this conversation? So, every guy on Earth just sneaks around, itching?"
"It's not called itching. It's called readjusting. A guy who itches is an idiot . . . a guy who readjusted, well, that's different."
Cade's comment cracked the hell out of me! "So, itching is bad, readjusting is all right. But every guy readjusts?" I asked.
He nodded. "Any real man does. Like the guys who need to . . . get their cell phone. Or grab their keys."
My face paled. I've met guys who like grabbing their phones and keys, right before shaking my hand! I gasped. "They're Cherry Pickers . . . Aren't they?"
"Yep, but the good ones are so sly, you never even know when it happened."
"Oh, my gosh!" I looked from Cade to The Zombie Elf. I felt surrounded. My bubble, my dreams of a picker-free world had burst.
I went to the store later that day and you know what . . . there were a lot of guys grabbing their CELL PHONES! I nearly screamed. It's like they wanted to suffocate me with their sneaking-ineptitude. They thought they were suave pickers, but no, Cade had stolen my innocence! I spotted each one of those fiends. I knew their dirty secrets. Sure they had the other women in the store fooled--not me though.
I knew they were more obvious than they hoped.
I knew they'd never land a job with the CIA for being debonair!
One guy grabbed his "money" for a moment, before handing his payment to the cashier.
She smiled, that naive schmuck--ACTUALLY SMILED!
So, when I got home at night, I had a long talk with Cade. "You stole my innocence. Everywhere I went, I saw Pickers!"
He nearly spit out his coke, he laughed so hard. "You should thank me. I shared a big guy secret with you."
"Fantastic . . . just phenomenal. Now I'm scarred for life."
Just then The Zombie Elf walked up to us and grabbed . . . his keys.
"Ahhh," I screamed. "Don't touch yourself. The world is filled with guys who do that. It's yucky, K?"
"That not yucky," The Zombie Elf puffed with pride and pointed to his pee pee. "That not yucky, Mama. That's mine!"
I tried saving the world from one more Picker, but I'd done a poor job. Cade laughed, doubling in amusement again. "You always wanted a boy," he said. "Now you have one."