Apparently my son likes older women.
Sunday afternoon, we pulled up to the drive-through window at Wendy’s to get some lunch, and Paul handed our debit card to the girl at the register, who ducked back inside to run it through the machine.
“Hey!” Caleb called out from the back seat, “Will you open my window, Daddy? I want to say ‘hi’ to her. She’s pretty!”
Paul and I swapped wide-eyed looks. Seriously? Our five year old wants to chat up the teenager working at the drive-through?
Just as I was about to tell Caleb that she was busy and couldn’t talk right now, Paul did what any red-blooded American Dad in his place would do. He rolled down Caleb’s window and pulled the car forward a little so that Caleb could flirt with the Wendy’s girl.
Caleb was elated. He pulled off the hood on his coat (the better to make eye contact, I guess) and murmured to himself, “Okay, here we go…” In a moment, she was back, and he was ready.
“Hi!” he piped at her cheerily. She smiled, instantly charmed (of course). “Hi, back,” she said.
And that was it. Caleb sat back, completely satisfied with his conquest, while Paul and I hid giggles of high amusement.
He’s going to be the only kid in kindergarten wearing Axe body spray.