This morning, daughter2 is getting ready for school. She's 11. I insist on putting some product in her hair because it's frizzing all over. She sits down with me and I look down and say "underwear," because her underwear was visible. You know how low-rise pants are.
After the hair is finished, she stands in the doorway and looks at me. There's something STICKING from her pocket, jutting out from her abdomen.
"Take that out of your pocket," I say.
"What, it's a marker," she says.
"Looks like you have a penis," I say.
She throws her hands up. "You're so inappropriate!" she screams.
"You don't want people to think you've got a penis, do you? I'm trying to help."
Stomp, stomp. Away from the Offender. Maybe I'm too blunt. It didn't help when I started laughing.
I'm a geek and a writer. I love comic books, classic movie monsters, everlasting love, old pulp fiction and genres outside of the mainstream.
I write under two names. As Theda Black, I write about men in love with other men. I write fairy tales, urban legends and horror under the name of Klaudia Bara.
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