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.
