We had a playdate at the park last week, and it was hilarious watching Desert Boy and his friend Little Stinker (hey, his mom chose the shirt, not me!). The whole time they were together they reminded me of two little old men. They don't have all their teeth, they don't speak clearly (in fact grunts are the most common form of communication), their balance is a little off and they stumble around a bit, and they are very opinionated!
It didn't take too long for the two to get over the awkward bit, just one of those complicated guy handshakes. Is that built into the genes or what? Actually, I think they were just swiping at each other, but neither seemed to care.
After a bit of wandering around, they both sat down to talk. Wait a minute, old men don't simply talk to each other. So I guess they were chewing the fat, shooting the breeze, talking the hind legs off a mule. I hope they understood each other because I sure didn't!
Suddenly, there's a change. Little Stinker doesn't want Desert Boy to get up. Is he protecting him from something? Does he see a snack and want to get to it first?
Aha, it's a cute girl! But after a few minutes they seem to lose interest.
Future old men of the world unite! They at least still have their hair. . . and will get more.
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