poke, poke

16-year-old boys get a bad rap, points out the Gardener,¹ but they're such fun to mess with. Witness this conversation with my cousin Dingo. Imagine me in the car, my dad driving, my brother (also 16) in the front seat, and Dingo's 12-year-old brother the Lost Boy sitting between Dingo and me in the back.

Lost Boy: "Hey, do the kids at [program where I work] have beards?"

Me: "Well, they don't get to shave, so some of them do by the time they leave."

Dingo: "Wait! Does that mean the girls get all hairy and nasty too?!"

Me: "Hairy and nasty like this?"

[pulls up pant leg to reveal unshaven leg]

Dingo: "Aaaaah!"

[hides in his coat]

Me: "I don't shave my armpits either."

Dingo: "But you're a girl! That's what girls do! ... Do you have a boyfriend?"

Me: "I did for a while. He didn't care."

Dingo: "He's crazy. Insane. He really didn't care?"

Me: "No. That was one of the reasons I liked him. But now I have a girlfriend."

Dingo: "NO WAY!"

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1. A new addition to our cast of characters. Also, my girlfriend.