Feed on

At least mine, as self-reported, does.

So we’re watching tennis today, some blonde woman I don’t know who used to be ranked #1 or close to it playing some brunette I also don’t know who’s an up-and-comer from Austria.

It’s match point for the brunette. She blows it. It goes another game or two. Another match point for the brunette. At which time Simon declares:

“I was rooting for the other woman.”

“Oh really, why?”

“Because she’s blonde. I like blonde hair.”

“What about me? And Bubbie? And Agotich? And Ruby?”

I’m throwing it all at him, trying to get him to TAKE IT BACK.

“Or Anyieth!”

“That’s right, Anyieth, too. See, you like dark hair lots.”

A ridiculous conversation, I know. But sometimes mommy doesn’t stay above the fray. Alas, Simon had a response for me.

“But most of my friends my age are blonde. Caroline is blond. Griffen is blond. Meredith is blond. Britt is blond. Baron is blond. Yeah, I really like blond hair.”

So there it is. My son is but a babe of 5 1/2 years, and he’s already decided he has a type. This is what I get for talking up the lovely Caroline all the time.


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