A MILF MOMENT

A MILF Moment

PhotoCredit:Poundingtherock.com

I went out to dinner with my Girlfriend Mom daughter the other night. When we were done, we strolled to the front door the restaurant, and exited onto the rained soaked sidewalk.

She turned to me aghast, “Did you hear what that guy said?” I didn’t know what she was talking about.

“What guy?”

Displeased, she continued, “The guy we passed by the door said, ‘I’d fu-k that mom.’ ” I assumed that this person was referring to me, but then again, it was New York City and you never know.

How could I not have heard that? Probably because I was thinking about what a great time I just had with my dinner date.

She continued, slightly annoyed, “Geez, at least he could have waited until we were outside.” I adored her shout out to respect  and class.

I focused on the mom part of this stranger’s shout out. Someone thought I was a mom— her mom? The word touched me more than part where he said that he’d fu-k me. Take a number.

I hugged my GM daughter good-bye, strapped on my bike helmut, saddled up and pedaled off down tenth avenue. At twenty-third street, I crossed over to the West Side Highway, turned onto the bike path, and said to no one in particular— mom, and I smiled.

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