Groomers

Leif has a friend named Izabella. Cute little girl – I see her at gymnastics. They enjoy each other’s company but Leif is at that stage where most girls aren’t really worth his time or energy and he gets horribly embarrassed at anything involving kissing or boyfriend/girlfriend. Hans has taken to harassing him by saying “smoochie smoochie” at random times just to see the flood of red up our son’s face.

 

Last night’s dinner conversation:

 

Me: “So who did you play with at recess today.”

 

Leif: “Cody had to stay in and do his work so I just rolled down the hill until N came and chased me.”

 

Me: “Sounds good. How is Izabella?”

 

Leif: “Good, she wanted me to play with her at recess, but I didn’t.”

 

Me: “Why? I know she is your friend, is everything ok?”

 

Leif: “Yes, but she and Adriana wanted me to be the groomer.”

 

Me: “Groomer, what do you mean?”

 

Leif: “You know, groomer.”

 

Me: “Well I am not sure, like a dog groomer.”

 

Leif: “No mom. You know. Dad was one once.”

 

Me: “I don’t think dad was ever a groomer. He cut Winny’s hair once recently since we don’t want to stress her out at the groomers.”

 

Leif: “No, that’s not it. He was a groomer in your wedding.”

 

Me: “Oh a GROOM! They wanted you to be the groom!”

 

Leif: “Yes. They said it was just pretend, but I don’t trust Adriana, she might make it for reals or something bad like that.”

 

And at this point the conversation just dissolves because I couldn’t stop laughing.