Sebastian is my nine-year old and he says some of the funniest things–we have no idea where he gets his material since his mother and I are rather boring, serious people.
On a particularly cold day in Houston, I told Sebastian, who was only wearing a t-shirt, that he needed to get a jacket on before I could take him to school. After a mild protest in which he tried to assert that he was not cold, he ascended the stairs and returned a few minutes later, wearing a hoodie sweatshirt that was two sizes too small. The tininess of the garment was accentuated by the fact that my son had affixed the hood over his head.
Me: “I thought you said you were not cold.”
Sebastian: “I’m not.”
Me: “Then why the….?”(As I motioned to the hood adorning his head.)
Seba (without hesitation): “Bad hair day.”