Hell of a Guy

Homosexuality, Babes, a Dirty Joke and a Lunch with Jared…


Saturday I got to have the extreme pleasure of dining at a Burger King with grandson Jared, the eight-year old.  Jared is a beautiful kid: of all the grandchildren, Jared is the one that will definitely break hearts as he gets older.  He has sparkling blue eyes and blond hair and an impish smile that lights up any room as soon as he flashes it.  His features would have you think him to be Scandinavian, but his heritage is Scotch, Irish, English; trust me, he’s a very cute kid.

The Nancy and I were visiting her folks along with her sister and brother-in-law.  It was about lunchtime and a meal of yucky chicken and corn-on-the-cob was about to be served.  Inasmuch as this boy don’t do chicken and a meal of corn-on-the-cob didn’t sound very satisfying, I took my man Jared to Burger King while they others ate barnyard scavenger and a vegetable of the grass family. 

After he ate his cheeseburger and as I munched on his fries and on my Burger King Gardenburger, which is pretty yucky on its own, we had a little sixty-three year old/eight-year old conversation – you know, guy-to-guy.  Conversations with kids one-on-one are to be treasured and savored, and this one may go down as the best I have ever had.  The highlights, just so I don’t take you away from what you should be doing for too long, goes like this.

When I say something to Jared that he perceives as unmanly or feminine, he says to me “you’re gay.”  I am not sure if he says this kind of stuff for shock value (since he has little idea of being gay means), or just because it’s cool to say it, but I just thank him for the compliment and go with the flow.  I want my grandchildren to realize there is diversity in the world that takes many directions, and not to condemn things they do not understand.  The world certainly does not need eight-year old homophobes.  There is enough vitriolic on this subject being spewed out by all kinds of so called “authorities” who have never taken the test to determine their heterosexual level of enjoyment over their homosexual level of enjoyment.

Anyway, I asked him what being gay means, and he tells me, quite sincerely and with little expression on his face, “gay” means “you are happy having sex.”  As I shook my head affirmatively, as if I agreed with his definition, I asked him if that means I don’t have to be gay to be happy?  He scrunched his face with a puzzled look, as if he thought I was really stupid, and proceeded to tell me, “Look, if a boy loves a boy, he’s gay, and if a girl loves a girl, she’s a lesbian.”  I was somewhat impressed that had any idea of what a gay relationship is, and proceeded to ask how he knows all of this.  He confessed he gets all of this profound information from his friend Sammy (the Sage).  I told Jared I love him and asked if that makes me any gayer.  Being puzzled again, he simply changed the subject to something else of no import, and eventually went off to play in the Burger King indoor playground. 

Not too long later it was time for us to head back to pick up Nancy, and as we were departing the BK, Jared tells me somebody wrote something dirty on the wall of indoor maze at the BK.  Reluctantly, but in light of our previous subject, I was overcome with interest and asked what?  He said, “You know.”  I said I did not know and he said, “Dave, somebody wrote “F-you” on the wall.”  I just said “so?”  He says you know, “F-U!” and continued to spell it out for this stupid older dude.  Again shaking my head – and you do this a lot when conversing with children, I thought it might be time to change the topic, so I did not react.  I think we explored that one just about enough, and I dare not ask where that one came from.  The saga doesn’t end here.

As we were heading back to the great-grandparent’s house, we stopped at a traffic light near a Rite-Aid where a young girl, about Jared’s age, was holding up a sign with “Car Wash” written on it.  I pointed toward her and told Jared to look at the cute girl.  She was wearing a bathing suit bottom and a t-shirt and was waving at us as we drove by.  Once again, Jared shot me a smile and asked if we were getting a car wash, and I told him no because I was out of money.  He told me he had some money and he would pay, so I asked why he would want to buy me a car wash, and he said, looking back over his shoulder as she continued to sink into the distance, he wanted to go back because that girl was “hot!” 

Jared is my kind of man.  Even at age eight, guys notice hot chicks and can act like pigs, but they can entertain you to the point you want to grab them and hug them to pieces.

Later, after doing a little shopping, The Nancy and I took Jared and his sister to the Outback for a snack and a drink; beer for us, Shirley Temples for them.  We sat at the nearly empty bar (you can do that with kids in the early afternoon).  My man Jared decided to entertain the bar tender, Sara, with a joke; a dirty joke. 

I didn’t catch all of what the joke was about, but I know it involved a shower, a little boy along with his parents, but not at the same time.  It included names for features of the male anatomy (snake) and the female body (headlights and bush) and something about a snake in a bush.  When questioned about the origin of the joke, Jared simply said, “Sammy told it to me.”  It just left The Nancy and me shaking our heads, Jessica rolling her eyes, and Jared in utter stitches.  What a great day.

Want to have a lot of fun?  Take a kid out to lunch and just listen and nod.  It’s blast!

And that is all I have to say about that…

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