Friday night Auntie Chihuahua and her husband came over for dinner. We normally see Auntie Chihuahua on Wednesday nights, but given our unplanned visit to the ER we had to reschedule. As an added plus, her husband, who normally does not join us due to his deep seeded fear of children, came along.
It was one of those nice nights with friends that involved a lot of food, a lot of talking, a lot of laughing and a lot of wine. Or crappy beer in the case of Mr. Chihuahua (I'm grinning just calling him this because while Auntie Chihuahua is small and bossy like the dog in question, Mr.Chihuahua is very tall with none of the yappiness you'd associate with that breed. Then again, I don't think there is a dog commonly associated with sarcasm and sardonic wit.)
The next day, as I drove the boys home from karate class, Big Dog says, "I like Mr. Chihuahua. He's kind of cool."
Much like the feline who selects the person most allergic to cats as their best friend for the evening, my kids both agreed that Mr. Chihuahua was kind of awesome.
"What makes him so cool?" I asked, wondering how they go about judging a person's coolness quotient.
"Well, he has good hair. It looks....cool," says Big Dog. "And his clothes."
"Ok, so you like his hair. I get it."
After thinking another moment, Big Dog adds, "And he kind of sounds like my gym teacher, Mr. D. I think that's it."
Apparently gym teachers are all kinds of cool in Big Dog's book. So it's decided, Mr. Chihuahua is as cool as a gym teacher with nice hair. I wonder if he'd go up in coolness if he traded his nice clothes for a tracksuit. If you're reading this, Mr. Chihuahua, you might want to give that a try.
Pasta ala Fridge
5 years ago