Leaving the little country store tonight, with our bag of fried chicken in hand, his ear phones draped down from the sides of his Zack Efron hair, I turn and notice a far away, serious look in his eyes.
Me: (Concerned) What are you thinking?
Him: (With barely a hesitation) Who would win in a fight, Sheryl Crow or Celine Dion?
Me: (Raised eyebrows turned in toward each other)
Him: Well, if you don’t want to know don’t ask!
Me: (After a moment) Sheryl Crow. Definitely Sheryl Crow. (Long pause in the car). But then I bet that Celine has some serious claws and could be really vicious in a cat fight.
Him: Yeah.
That’s right folks, my sons and I are not afraid to talk about the deep stuff.
David J. Bauman 
Ah, the Philosophy of Fifteen.
I adore Sheryl Crow. But Celine Dion is crazy. Did you ever see her pound her chest in the Titanic days? My money’s on her.
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Yes, he’s a pretty laid back, dude. Yeah, those crazy dangerous Canadians, ready to attack from the north.
Um, yeah, that’s a joke. No, really, some of my closest friends are Canadians. And I have a special affinity to Canada Geese.
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OH NO! First it was the Gays, now you mean to tell me the Canadians are after us?
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Oh yeah, and I hear they have an “agenda.”
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I adore this. I did nothing but giggle my way throught his. Maggs.
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Jon and I have so many conversations like that. Perhaps I’ll have to make it a weekly feature. I have to write these down sometimes or I’ll never remember them all.
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