I am driving Zoë home from ballet class. Suddenly, she screams. My first thought is we are about to crash.
“What?! What is it Zoë?”
“Do you see that guy in the truck next to us? Well, he doesn’t have shirt on! That’s disgusting!”
By the look on her face and the urgency in her voice, I’m not sure what to expect, but I glance over at the driver in the truck, and sure enough, he’s bare-chested. I was half expecting him to look like some kind of monster, but instead, I see a young guy, probably on his way home from work, looking rather tan and fit. I’m sure he was hoping to catch a few glances. He catches mine, and instantly I look away, trying to look as though I wasn’t really looking.
I really stink at that.
Dang. I bet he thought I was a cougar.
For the record, I am not. Just protecting my cub from danger.