This week, Mr. Z is at a nature camp (we're alternating weeks between the nature camp and the Y camp). He went there last year and had a blast. Last year, he told us (after a great deal of hemming and hawing and even a bit of "tittering" and "teehee-ing") that he had a crush on another camper there. When the camp photo showed up at the end of the summer, the old lady and I were floored. The "itch" the had him "a-scratchin'" was this 11 year old she-woman who was about two feet taller than he. It was krazy, with a capital "kra"!
So, he's back this year and so is his "lady!" I went to pick him up today and there he was, standing in close proximity to this musky minx, running around like a complete dorkus. It was like some bizarre, juvenile mating dance he was doing -- making piercing squeaking noises, flapping his arms around -- it was quite a sight. I glanced at the object of his oddball affection and she was half-watching him with a look that said, "Great... today I am a woman and this is the shit I have to look forward to for the rest of my goddamn life."
On the ride home, I tried to get a little info:
ME: So, I saw 'J' hanging out near you when I picked you up. Did you guys talk at all?
MR. Z: Dad, don't say her name! It's "she-who-cannot-be-named"! And no, I didn't talk to her!
ME: I thought you liked her, though?
MR. Z: Look, I don't want to talk about it!
I didn't push any further. No use confusing him anymore just yet. Who knows what ludicrous notions are zooming through his noggin? It's gotta be hilarious.
And then tonight, while I was making dinner, he comes out with:
MR. Z: So, today, when we were playing this tag game... 'J' had her arms up over her head? And I could see that she had some "ish"!
Okay, quick explanation. When my cousin was like four, he used to call armpit hair "ish." Ever since then, armpit hair/body hair has been called "ish" in our family. And in my family, there's a shitload of ish to go around. My cousin is in his thirties now. I'm pretty sure he has ish, though I try not to think about it.
Anyish, Mr. Z is now ish-spotting! That's intense shit! I don't think I ish-spotted until I was well into my Jr. High years. I'm not ready for this shit... and neither is he!
I mean, I'm still asking him whether or not he wiped his ass after he takes a dump.