Like father, like son?
Jordan lost his job when Camille's closed about a month ago. He was hired at Panera Bread Company almost immediately afterward. He's worked only a few shifts and last night was the first time he's been there at closing. Mary and Lyndsay were out shopping, so they offered to pick him up. They waited and waited as the crew cleaned the store. Finally, the manager walked over with a bag of goodies consisting of bagels, cookies, and those wonderful brownies. They were surplus and couldn't be kept until morning.
But a couple of female co-workers talked with Jordan, chatting him up shamelessly as his sister watched. “Do they always flirt with you like that?” she asked later.
“Huh?” It's what passes for witty repartee from my seventeen-year-old son. “They were flirting?”
Now, you may recall that Mary said I'm stupid when it comes to women. Apparently it's a familial trait and Number One Son inherited it quite strongly.
I don't know whether to be proud of him or worry that he's far too much like me.