De Nile is not just a river...

Hello all, it's Danielle again with a fun little story for ya. It's a young man's coming of age story and his grandmother's complete denial of who he really is.

Dear sweet Chance (name has been changed to protect the innocent) usually spent his summers at his grandma's house, who is my neighbor. Since Chance was only 2 years younger than I, we used to spend our days together swimming in my pool, playing with Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head, and....playing Barbie. That's right, Chance LOVED playing Barbie and not in the stereotypical "rip their heads off/cut off all their hair" kind of way. The way most normal boys play Barbie. No, Chance loved styling his Barbies' hair and dressing them up. He loved Barbies so much that grandma, being the supportive lady that she is, bought Chance his very own Barbies (and Ken) and even made clothes for them. What a lucky guy! He used to yell at me and tell me that I wasn't dressing my Barbies properly and that the outfits I put together weren't "right".

Like I said above, we also played Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head. Like most kids, we put the hats on our own heads, the lips in our mouth, and stretched the glasses to fit on our big heads. He always was Mrs. Potato Head. Purse and all. I have pictures.

Chance went off to college and studied...Art. He is now an Art teacher at a local school. He chaperoned a school dance and got all decked out in a nice, fancy PURPLE suit. He's made real good friends with all of his female co-workers.

Recently he stopped over at his grandma's carrying a big purse-like black bag. All of a sudden, the bag began to bark. He reached in and pulled out a small, little black dog. One of those 'le femme' yappy dogs. He then procedes to tell grandma that this is the only grandchild he will give her.

Her response? I don't understand...Chance loves kids. Ah the pure, delusional mind of a grandmother.