He Will, He Will, Flirt You. Uh. (Flirt You, Uh)

I'm going to be honest. I am very much a flirt. I flirt with boys, girls, dogs... Pretty much anything with charm, I'm all about it. So is Archer and together we wink and blink and laugh and smile and wave and dance down the street blowing kisses to homeless trombone players with holes in their shoes.

Perhaps this is why it didn't surprise me when the other day I caught Archer playing peek-a-boo with Shaquille O'Neal. Okay, it wasn't REALLY him but it could have been his twin brother. He was very close in size and stature and very serious about the free-weights.

We were at the counter of the gym picking up some Pilates info. I'm about a decade behind when it comes to "it" workouts and thought it would be a good time to get started, you know, right when gym-rats are coming off their pilates high and pursuing aerobic-pole-dancing or cardio-strip. (How can one sexily strip off a sports-bra by the way? It takes me ten minutes to wiggle out of that shit, am I right?)

I'm not one to flirt at the gym or even make eye contact. I never got the whole makeup and hair-down thing either. I'm the girl in the sweats and oversized t-shirt, messy-haired and nondescript, sweating balls. Perhaps this is why I felt so out-of touch at my old gym. (Maybe it's just me but doing abs and arms between Ian Ziering and Gina Gershon is not in my comfort-workout-zone.) At the Y, people just LOOK like celebrities, coming full circle to Shaq-a-like, Archer's new BFF.

"Hey there, man," Shaq-a-like smiled at Archer who by this time was laughing and banging his head so hard into my shoulder (playing peek-a-boo) I was perpetually saying ouch.


"Cute kid."

"He likes you. Ouch."

"Yeah. Is he here to work-out too?"

"Ouch. He's here to play in the daycare, er hold his red blankie, ouch, and watch the other kids play. Ouch."

"Peek-a-boo!" Shaq-a-like wasn't even listening to me. He was too interested in playing and beating Archer at peek-a-boo, hiding behind his computer, crouching behind faux plant, smiling big-eyed.

"Heh. Peek-a-boo says Archer!"

"Peek-a-boo, I see you-ooooo!"

"Okay! Time to go to daycare!!!"

But I guess it wasn't time to go to daycare. Shaq-a-boo wasn't done playing peek-a-boo and Archer was now waving his hand hysterically and reaching out to go home with his new friend and leave me for always.

"He likes me," he said, now on his hands and knees crawling out of the information booth and toward us.

"So, yeah. About that pilates schedule..."

It's pretty amazing what a cute baby can do to a great, big, Paul Bunyan of a man. I started to think, "I have absolutely NOTHING on this kid..." And pretty soon it became a contest.

I pushed out my chest, pouted and gave our new friend the ol wink-bite-the-lip-wink. "So, what's your name, big guy?" (Okay I didn't say "big guy" who am I kidding?)

"Oh, I'm Jerome."

"Great, Jerome. SO nice to meet you. I'm Rebecca. Can I please have that pilates schedule, honey-buns?"

"Sure. Cute kid."

"Thanks. He came out of my va-gi-na." (Dudes! I totally didn't say that!!! I'm so kidding, don't worry.)

"Peek-a-boo. Who's the man? Who is he? There he is!? PEEK-A-BOOOOO!"

Yeah. I know. Peek-a-boo, very sweet. He's the man, I get it. I HAVE TO GO NOW.

Okay, so maybe I was just bitter because I lost the flirt-off. I have to admit, it takes some getting used to. No one warned me about the fact that when you have a baby you suddenly become obsolete. No longer are men, women, dogs looking at YOU. It's all about the kid. It's all about the baby's shoes and his cute little hair stylings and you (the mama) may as well drag around the streets looking like a bag lady. No one cares anymore.

I am not going to lie. If anyone turns their heads these days I wave and cheer. Cat-calls on dog-walks from perverts? Hell yeah! Homeless men looking down my shirt. Holla!

I suppose now I'm going to have to wait for Archer to become fluent in English to ask Shaq-a-Boo himself for the damn schedule. And in the meantime? I'll be the hag pouting in the background like an L-to-the-forehead-LOSER and (sniff) no one will notice.



Gina | 10:31 PM

You know, I have gotten the honor a few times now to be the first commenter... how does this miracle of miracles happen?

Girl, you about made me wake my child (and almost wet my pants) this line was so funny!!!! "Thanks. He came out of my va-gi-na."

Oh my gosh, lady, you crack me up! Thanks for ALWAYS making me smile! No.matter.what.

k.thedoula | 12:56 AM
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
k.thedoula | 1:02 AM

Sorry about that up above. Massive typo and it is three a.m. so the brain isn't working too well.
Okay try #2
Isn't having a baby come out of your va-gi-na a rare and odd thing to have happen out where you are? I see nothing wrong with bucking the trend!
And just so you know, I'd drop the outward polite and demure act and scream at a celebrity sighting of you and Archer in a flash! I'd squeal at the top of my Canadian lungs with joy!
I now introduce myself as a, b & c's mom these days. It's just not worth it... people can't spell my name let alone say it!

Anonymous | 7:23 AM

First. I'm impressed with your regular gym attendance. I have a membership and have yet to go.

The kids there are always snotty (like literally snotful), however, once this last molar is in, I'm there.

Now - as for the flirting, seriously, I haven't gotten a look since 2003. It's depressing.

Andrea | 7:44 AM

"Thanks. He came out of my va-gi-na." I'm crying over here from laughing! That's freakin' hilarious!

I know what you mean about the invisibility. At least then people aren't noticing that I still have some weight to lose. After 2 years.


Ahaha. I'm not ALOOOOOOONE. Thaaaaank you!

P.S. Me/Myself/I- Link away!

I am not obsolete!!! (yet)

kittenpie | 8:58 AM

Yeah, in my brief fling with the gym, I was totally a T-shirt and sweatpants girl too. It's not cute to sweat anyway, so why bother? And LOL about the sports bra -that's a hirlarious image!

Becoming invisible is a bit depressing, it's true - but it has an upside. On the bad hair day, the can't be bothered days, the mosquito-bite-on- my-forehead days (like today)? You're still invisible. And then I appreciate it.

j.sterling | 9:25 AM

LMFAO! he came out of my vagina! HAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA.. i miss la. stop making me miss la.

Anonymous | 12:00 PM

you're HOTTER then ever! word on the street is that when you walked in to that Hip/Trendy hair studio you owned the room!! yes the men may have been gay..but gay men ALWAYS notice a foxy mamma; and the other women where quick to say, "WOW! she looks AMAZING!"
don't feel left out. just think..now you have a partner in crime ;)

jess | 12:32 PM

hey, speaking of look-a-likes, there was an archer-a-like at the long beach aquarium yesterday. almost thought i was going ot run into one of my favorite bloggers. the kid looked just like him, the mom (yes, i am aware of your look too, not just archer's) not. so. much.

motherbumper | 2:37 PM

I'm with kittenpie on the upside of it all. I've headed out with less than favorable conditions and don't mind that no one seems to notice me. Bumper doesn't quite flirt, she seems to play hardball with some people. She stares them down with her serious look and then follows up with a coy smile. And she attracts all sorts of people. Some people that I'd rather not spend a lot of time involving in my daily routine.

Archer must be a killer flirt. I can tell by those eyes.

"Thanks. He came out of my va-gi-na." made me spill my drink. Absolutely freakin' funny. I wish you had said it.

Anonymous | 2:52 PM

Funny stuff! Got me thinking about the last time anyone every flirted with me...hmmmm. I think it was ten years ago in the womens bathroom at a Melissa Ethridge concert. How sad is my life.

kiwidebra | 3:15 PM

Yep, there's nothing like having people cooing over your child - "Oh my, look at those lips. Where did those come from?" Um, hello? I have lips too.

I actually had one person who has seen me and Baby Girl numerous times say she couldn't get over how pretty BG's eyes were, then look at me and say "Oh, you have blue eyes too."

I guess that's the price we all pay for having a too cute kid.

Sandra | 7:45 PM

I always say that my son sucked all my flirt-power out when he breast fed. Okay now that was kinda gross. But seriously the guy can out flirt me any day and I used to be the Queen.

Alisyn | 8:58 PM

I love this post...

I often find myself doing one of two things where flirting is concerned.

One: If the guy/gal/whoever is flirting with my kids, and not me, I'll think, "Aw, that's sweet. You know they get it from me, right?..."

Two: If the guy/gal/whoever is flirting with me, and not my kids, I'll think "Hey! Back off, man. I'm with my CHILDREN, here."



You are totally right. That's exactly what happens!!! Love it!

kirida | 2:56 PM

I used to be a huge flirt with a high-pitched giggle and hair flip. And now I sit in my sweats and wonder what happened to all my flirt-mojo.

And speaking of va-gi-nas, when I would take my newborn out and someone said, "Oh your baby's so small!" I wanted to say, "Yeah, my vagina doesn't think so."

Xigxag | 1:10 AM

You actually support a man who has alliances with The racist Wright and Farakan? And the admitted terrorist William Ayers, and some who cashed in on the Freddie Mac/Fannie Mae scandal by receiving over $120,000 to play dunb to their antics! Get your head out of the sand!
You need some spiritual guidance... Just don't go to his former church pf over 20yrs. Your kind isn't welcome.