In this post, I tackle the question:
At What Age Do Boys Become Such Lying Little Ma’fuckers
My little 6 year-old cousin Edison once told me we should get married. He thinks I’m a 12 year-old Goddess. We have a very questionable game of trying to karate kick each other in the butt as a greeting to each other, which may prove to be either the most glorious or most dysfunctional element of his childhood memory. I suspect it will be a hybrid. But if there’s one thing I demand from our relationship, it’s that he be scared and awed enough by my presence to always be honest with me.
But now the little ma’fucker’s testing the boundaries of my trust by looking for little ways to try to trick me. Probably he’s secretly still miffed I turned down his marriage offer.
I asked him a few days ago if he dressed in green for St Patrick’s Day, and told him how I’d forgotten; he could have pinched me. He wrote back and said no one told him about wearing green and he didn’t get pinched. I thought that was strange, since St Patrick’s Day is still a kitschy holiday in schools so he should have known about wearing green or getting pinched. And knowing how much my uncle and aunt love putting those two kids in matching outfits for any occasion, he and his brother were probably decked out like limes. I asked again if no one told him and he was emphatic. So I gave it up to a cultural cross and took it at face value.
But I swear, if a picture surfaces of him and his brother dressed as leprechauns, he and I are gonna sit down for a talk.