In which a veteran of cultural studies seminars in the 1990s moves into academic administration and finds himself a married suburban father of two. Foucault, plus lawn care.
Last night The Wife and I were working on The Girl’s Halloween costume. She had planned to dress as Medusa, but we couldn’t get the hair right, so she’s going instead as Cleopatra.
The costume involves a dress that’s too long for her, so we were trying to figure out how to shorten it so she wouldn’t trip over it, while not making it look awful. Actual conversation fragment:
DD: Well, you could roll it up a little and sort of pin it on the sides...
TW: No, that would look terrible.
TG: Daddy, you have to think like a girl. What do girls like?
DD: Well, sometimes that’s hard to do.
TG: I know what boys like.
TW: What do boys like?
TG: Well, little boys like Spiderman and legos and stuff like that.
TW: And what do big boys like?
TG: Teenage girls.
I laughed out loud.
I am sooooo not ready for the teen years...
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