While sitting in the kitchen with my mother and son, the following conversation ensued.

Bubbie: Are you going to play piano again?

Son: No, I don’t like it.

Me: But you’re so good at it.

Bubbie: You’re so talented, you should play.

Me: Yes, all the girls love that! That’s how you’ll get them.

Son: And what do the girls do to get us?

Me/Bubbie: Wax.