Son: Mom, you know that girl who was really mean to me that one time at tennis? The one who called me an idiot?
Mother Crab: Of course, I remember, my darling little boy. How could I ever forget the wrongs that you have encountered? I AM Italian, don't you forget.
Son: Well, she was much nicer at the last class.
Mother Crab: Oh? How did you become friends?
Son: We talked about tacos.
Photo credit Piccolaitaliana |
Hmmm.... So that's what I am doing wrong. Fortunately, my diverse ethnic background will enable me to wax eloquent on the subject of tacos with any girl for any length of time.
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