Me: "Who's a bigger dork. Me or your dad?"
Little guy: "DAD!"
Me: "Oh, that's good. I knew I was the cool one."
Little guy: "You're not cool, mom."
Me: "Well, when am I dork?"
Little guy: "All the time."
Me: "Even when I'm sitting at my desk painting?"
Little guy: "No, not then."
Me: "Even when I'm in the other room completely ignoring you?"
Little guy: "No, not then either."
Me: "Any time I'm around you?"
Little guy: "Always then."
So, as it turns out I have to pretty much be in solitary confinement to not be a dork, I figured I had full rights to be my dorky self the rest of the time. Right? So, when the little guy and I went shopping and we passed by the live Yiddish music playing, and an employee told me I had to dance to get by...well, I figured I just had to. I'm a rule follower, after all. A rather dorky one.
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