Remember that guy? The one every girl drooled over and fawned around in high school? The gorgeous hunk of testosterone that made your ovaries tingle and scream out “I WILL BEAR YOUR CHILDREN!” ? The one I obsessed over (and over) for most of my adolescence until I had him but had to share him with another girl(s)?
Well, I have bred one of those guys. He lives in the body of a little boy named Sacha. I fear for the future of the female sistas out there. He already has an girlfriend who attends to all of his needs (of the food, drink and soother variety), but whom he also puts in her place when she demands some lovin’ by casually shrugging off her hugs and kisses and moves on to more important things, like his car. Now, one girl is not enough.
Yesterday, we went to a polar bear habitat to see polar bears (shocking, I know). He loved the bears, but equally so the ladies watching the polar bears. With a flash of a smile and batting of his oceanic blue eyes, the ladies swoon. The men swoon and are jealous of the attention stolen from their women. Even the female polar bear loved him, as she paced back and forth in front of him, putting on her little show of belly scratching and preening in his presence as though she could attract him to live in her bear den and have little bear-bum babies with him. (I don’t think she was hungry…)
Tonight, we decided to go out for supper with my parents who are visiting from out-of-province. With Sacha in tow, a trip to a restaurant is always…well…if you have kids, you know what kind of adjective can be used there. However, in total player-style, the little dude was a total doll, despite his tantrum-throwing resistance to an afternoon nap. He walked around the restaurant, stopping at EVERY table, looking at the people to see if they were ogling him, and if they were, he flashed them a brilliant zoolander pose and smile and talked their ears off with his stories of “da-da-da, GAW!” Then, he’d move on to the next table and repeat this over and over until we’d visited and shared the love with every eater in the house. Including single old men who eat alone (that’s another story for another day). The server even brought him some free corn-bread to munch on with his supper (a purée of steak and potatoes with corn, made by Mama herself). He gladly accepted the bread with a smile that could slay a dragon. Or at least the lustful lady-dragon on Shrek. You know, the one who is scamming on Donkey and ends up having babies with him (I will also let that one slide for another post). Oh, the joys of having a player for a son…