My son, Eli, is a stud. His prowess among 6 year-olds borders on legendary. He has a quick smile and good looks that work as a deadly combination to cause even the coldest of women to swoon in light-headed bliss. I have taken him to wedding receptions many times, some of them were weddings over which I presided. While at the reception, adult men have experienced gut-wrenching jealousy while watching Eli dance non-stop with the hottest women in the room. He has even, on more than one occasion, pulled the new bride away from her husband to sweep her off her feet, mere hours into the now-threatened covenant. No woman is safe. No woman can resist. Women love Eli, and men want to be him.
He was par for the course again yesterday, when he and I went to the grocery store. As a side note for fill-in information, the kid wanted a "mohawk" haircut, so I gave him one a while ago. He was pushing a mini grocery cart, while I had a full-sized one. In the store, right by the peach table, an old woman of approximately 85 years told Eli, "That is a great haircut! You are such a handsome young man!" She ran her fingers through his hair, patted him on the shoulder, and moved on. Eli looked up at me with an almost indiscernible smirk on his face and stated, "Yep...chicks still dig me." He then walked off into the sunset with his cart, fully confident in his prowess.
My heart swelled to three sizes larger in a Grinchesque manner, seeing the swagger of my son. The truth is, I was also proud of the fact that this kind of studliness cannot be taught. there is no manual or class that one can take. This kind of studliness is inherited. Caught, not taught. Even 85 year old women are not immune to his charm, which makes me walk with a similar swagger. My little stud is definitely his dad's kid. At least that's what I tell myself, as I walk off into the sunset after him, and his six-year-old shadow looms large over me.
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