My son asked me why I had hair on my toes last night. After some chuckling we told him that everyone gets hairy as they get older. His look after learning this information can only be described as: what are you weirdos talking about.

This exchange reminds me of a story my mom loves to tell about me. She was trying to get me to eat some spinach before leaving the dinner table and she told me it would make me look like Popeye. At learning that the food I was eating would turn me into a squinty eyed, bulldog jawed, weirdo, suffering from gigantism of the forearms I screamed “I don’t want to look like Popeye.”

I can only imagine that my son probably thinks that within a couple of weeks he will look like a little hairy monster. Oh, the torture we put upon our children, ain’t it grand?