Reports came in that my 8-year-old was secretly chatting up some ladies earlier in the day. Proud and curious, I summon him to the bedroom for details.

"Mommy told me she took you and your brother to the park today and you were talking to some girls."

"Yeah."

"She said you were hanging out with them on top of the slide?"

"Yeah."

"Nice! What did you say to them?"

"I was telling them that you have a hairy butt."

"..."

This brief moment of silence is broken by the hard laughter of his obnoxious 4-year-old brother.

"And what did the girls say??"

"They said their dad's have hairy butts, too."

I suppose this once again proves the old adage: "The quickest way to a woman's heart is through your father's swampy ass."

I'm not thrilled about this conversation, but I've always had a hard time talking to strange girls. If my buttocks are an ice-breaker, have at it, kid.