I keep running into other dads. Dads who have sons. Dads who see Emerson and Emerson’s Mom and know she’s going to be beautiful, just like her Mom. And they all say something similar…
“Hopefully you own a shotgun.”
Yes, I get it. I’m going to be the Dad who has a daughter that the boys covet. And I’m not looking forward to it. At. All.
For the record, there are probably 10 guns within reach. So yes, there will be a 17 year old boy threatened with gun violence in this home. We’re in the south after all.
The latest guy said, “I hope you’re planning to stock up on shotguns.” He said this at Mi Cocina while his child, Blake, was acting a fool. And Emmy was mesmerized. The boy climbed the stairs in defiance of his parents’ wishes, in defiance of the sign that say “adults only”, and in the face of all the restaurant patrons wishing they’d wrangle their child. If this means Emerson is going to like the “bad boy”, then I’m buying a bazooka.
Lucky for me as she was flirting with Blake the trouble maker, she absentmindedly spilled shredded chicken from her quesadilla all down her rain boots. No boy is pursuing Chicken Boot Girl.