Friday, July 22, 2016

Every now an then you run into a pretty sharp kid.

One of my attributes is that I can ask just about anybody anything and keep a straight, serious look in my face. I can be a pretty good troll when I want to be.

I was at Camp Perry yesterday.

So with a straight face I asked an eighteen year old girl to marry me.

She was shocked for less than a second and her face lit up.

Her father behind her went straight into shock and snarfed the canned iced tea he was drinking.

She looked at me with a big grin and asked, "How old are you, what is your health like and what is your net worth?"

Damn, she was sharp!

"I am 83 years old, I smoke 4 packs of Camel cigarettes and drink 1 quart of Jim Beam a day," I replied. "I also have a net worth of 7.3 million dollars, most of which is tied up in real estate and gold."

"Now, that sounds pretty tempting," she replied. "Any kids I have to split it with?"

"No. No children," I replied. "And no greedy ex-wife to contest the will."

"Oh, yeah?" she replied feigning great interest. "No messy ex-wife, huh? This keeps sounding better and better."

In the background the father smirked.

By this time her father seemed to have recovered and was looking at his daughter handle herself. His look changed. The initial instinct to protect his child was replaced with a combination of curiosity and pride. He was watching his daughter take care of herself and seemed quite pleased with the way she was handling herself. He very well have seen her in a whole new light. 

My guess is that he realized she was soon to leave the fold and he would no longer be there to protect her. He seemed to be pretty proud of the way she was handling herself.

Sometimes we forget that the actual test of raising kids comes after they are out of the house and on their own. We raise them to be able to take care of themselves after they leave the house. Sometimes parents overprotect their kids and when they leave the house they are thrown to the wolves.

I looked at the father. "You seem to have done a fine job of raising this young lady," I said. "She's as sharp as a tack."

He had a lot to be proud of.


Another sharp kid.

Twenty minutes later I was in a shop on Commercial Row and in one of the shops I saw the vendor eating lunch while he peddled his wares. He had a bucket of KFC in front of him.

As I was leaving I saw a father and son headed for the entryway. The son was maybe 13 or 14. 

"Careful young man," I said. "There's a man eating chicken in there!"

The kid looked confused for a second, recovered and grinned.

"Thanks, Mister," said the kid. 

"Ever seen a man eating chicken before? I asked.

"Sure have," said the kid.

The father looked confused.

"Where have you ever seen a man eating chicken before?" He asked the kid, now looking totally confused.

"At a Kentucky Fried Chicken," said the kid. "There's lots of them there."

The father still looked confused. Then he blushed. He had finally figured it out.

The kid grabbed the door handle, opened it and looked in.

"He's right, Dad," he said. "There IS a man eating chicken in here!"

Two other guys behind him looked at each other somewhat confused as the kid walked into the shop followed by his father.

"A man eating chicken?" one asked the other.

The two men followed the father and son into the shop to see the man eating chicken.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

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