I immediately thought of the book cover in which she cradled a watermelon sized belly. The book that discussed mucous plugs, epidurals and childbirth classes. I thought about all of the autism campaigns over the years with her cute little blond bob, cheesin' it with Jim Carrey. She's cute. She's a mom.
Most importantly, to a 15-year-old, she should be considered OLD. She is, like, MY age.
"Jenny McCarthy," I asked.
"Yeah," he flipped his Justin Bieber-ish hair. "She's hot."
What the heck.
I dismissed it. I dismiss a lot of what my kids say. I'll admit it. I shouldn't, but I do. Unless they say something really unique and precocious, it's often met with an "Uh, huh," and it's in one ear; out the other.
I forgot about the Jenny McCarthy comment until I found these tonight when I was bored on WWTDD.COM.
He was supposed to be syncing his Ipod.
