Rainy Day Activities
At some point over the break while we were at a department store buying Jack this amazing Grizzly-Adams-mated-with-a-Furberry bathrobe, I taught Jackson to amuse himself in the men's furnishings department by spraying cologne samples onto white slips of paper, waving them around, and then refreshing his nose in a small container of coffee beans. After about ten minutes of this he was begging for a bottle of John Paul Gaultier but I refused because (a) that's 300 Pokemon cards right there, (2) a first grader ought not to smell better than me, and (3) he only wanted it so he could play with the magnetic bottles. I know my boy: he gets a little high off the purchase, but when he gets home you might as well have been shopping at Abandonment 'R' Us.
HOWEVER, last Friday when I was getting my broken tooth jack-hammered out of my head, guess what Jack and Jackson did to kill some time? They went to Sephora to try on cologne. "We were some stick-waving motherfuckers," reports Jack. They came back with a nice bottle of eau do Cartier, which has pride of place next to Jackson's watermelon flavored toothpaste, and some heady Guerlin Vetiver Sport. Last night Jackson tried to convince me he didn't need a bath by slipping off to the bathroom and coming back smelling like Bronson Pinchot. (I was actually picturing Pierce Brosnan when I wrote that, but maybe it's better this way).