My friend Knickerknapper (man I am getting good at giving people blog names) once complained to me about his girlfriend.
K: Sometimes, she asks me what I’m thinking about.
K: So, I feel like I’m supposed to say ‘I was thinking about you,’ or ‘I was thinking about how much I love you’ or something like that. But honestly, that’s not what I’m thinking about.
Me: Really? That’s what you think she wants to hear?
Why would she want to hear that all the time? When she could be hearing awesome things like the following?
Me: What are you thinking about?
Nordic Boy: Tractors.
Me: Yeah. I’m gonna need you to expand on that.
Nordic Boy: I was thinking about when I used to get to drive tractors. Like when I was a teenager.
Me: You did? You got to drive tractors? Like big ones?
Nordic Boy: Yeah.
Me: I don’t think I have ever seen a tractor. Like up close.
Me: Wait, I think I may have touched one. Once, a long time ago.
Nordic Boy: You touched one? What does that mean?
Me: In elementary school, we got to take a field trip to a farm. I remember we got to see a real cow and go on a hayride. And I think that we saw a tractor there, and I think I touched it as we walked by. It was green, I think. I don’t know. I must have been like, 6.
Nordic Boy: You are so city.
Me: (proudly) I’ve been on a riding lawn mower before.
Nordic Boy: Congratulations.
Me: Us at 15. You on a tractor in Wisconsin. Me on a lawn mower in Michigan. It’s kind of romantic when you think about it.
Nordic Boy: What?