Happy Birthday. For real.

Today is the Boy one's girlfriend's birthday. Or at least her party. He doesn't know if it's actually her birthday or not because, clearly, he is right on track in becoming a normal man.

This morning he accompanied me to my eye doctor appointment at the mall because after my appointment we were going to see if we could procure a gift for the Girlfriend Child. He had already purchased for her a small, plastic horse (because she liked horses) and a small, blank book (because she, apparently wants to be a writer and he, obviously, has really good taste in women). I told him he might want to get her one more thing because these two items together and with tax, cost $2.14 and while I'm sure she'll like them, he can do just a bit better since it's the girl's birthday and whatnot.

He was thinking about things he might like to get her and asked me if there were any toy stores in the mall. I told him I was sure there were toy stores, but maybe we might want to go to Claires and get her something. That, after all, is a store that his sister would like and since his sister is the same age as Girlfriend Child, she's probably a good indicator. I said, "You probably want to get her girl stuff instead of toys".

"Girl stuff?" he asked.

"Yes," I said. "Not toys. Just...girl stuff."

He looked dubiously at me and said, "Okay then. But I'm not buying her tampons."

"Um, okay," I said.

"And we're not going anywhere NEAR that underwear store!"





No problem.