Tuesday, March 06, 2012
When you’re 18
There’s a boy in Karys’ after-school group whose family is Filipino.
She has remarked (a lot) more than once that this little fella is “cute” and “hot”.
When I dropped by to pick Karys up this afternoon, she h-a-a-a-a-a-d to chase this little fella around the playground just o-o-o-o-o-n-e more time before we left.
Which she did. And with a huge smile on her face the entire time.
Once the two had sufficiently worn themselves out and voiced their goodbyes, Karys and I started walking off.
“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I kiss him?”
“When you’re 18.”
