So we broke down over the weekend and finally succumbed to mass marketing. There we were, strolling through our local supermarket hellbent on buying veggies and conquering the ol' fat kid issues once and for all.
We had ourselves some tomatoes, and soup, and brocolli and carrots. Then we realized we needed some deodorant to make us smell as pretty, er, clean. Now, Ol' Man Snap, being a good ol' man, likes him some Old Spice. Daddy gets what Daddy likes. You know how we do.
Anyway, we thought we'd try something new on this supermarket trip, so we grabbed us some Tag. We sprayed some real careful-like on our hand to check the smell.
Daddy liked. So Daddy got him some.
Ever since then, though, every time we spray it on, we wait. We wait some more. We duck, thinking they're coming. We duck again, thinking they're coming again. But nothing. A big fat nothing. No chicks attacking the ol' man. No dames. No broads. Nothing.
If anything, we think this Tag is keeping them away. Because let's face it, kids, OMS is the new pink, and the ladies, awwwwww yeah, like them some.
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1 comment:
did you just call yourself "daddy"?
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