"Sure," I said, rummaging through the gym gear on the floor of the passenger side. "Would you like Time magazine? Or perhaps US News? Maybe the Wall Street Journal?"
But what I actually came up with was quite different than the aforementioned publications. "Well, here's an issue of US Weekly. Wait, that's no good. Anna Nicole Smith is on the cover; that's old news. What else is here? Cosmo? No, I don't think that I want B learning about the 99 best sex tricks. In Style? Hmmm, that seems pretty harmless."
Mom and B began to peruse In Style and I could hear my mother saying things like, "All the girls in here have sparkly dresses. And high heels." "Long hair," B observed. This continued on for quite some time and then B asked, "Where are the men in this magazine?" To which my mom said, "I don't really see any yet." Flip, flip flip went the pages. And then:
"There's one," B stated. "I see one. Right there, THERE'S a man!"
I looked over my shoulder while my mom laughed out loud. And here is the "man" that B was pointing to: