“Nothing like having freshly polished boots on your feet is there, P?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“You never had polished boots on your feet?”

“Um…no. Never had a tick either,” I said referencing a conversation we had last week where he expressed his shock and disbelief at the fact I have never (and will never) have a tick on my body.

“No tick and no clean boots either. Well that is just hard for me to fathom, you understand.”

“No. I guess you can introduce me to people - This is P. She’s never had a tick or a polished boots on her feet in her life.”

“Well I gotta say if I introduced you to my soldiers like that they’d be shocked. They’d probably all stare at you.”

“What? Never seen a girl before?”

“Girls get ticks.”

“Not this one. I ever get a tick I am going to scream bloody murder. I will shriek clear to heaven.”

“Yeah, you’d be like my old dog. She’d see a tick and slobber all over. She’d have slobber dripping, hanging down. And you know those little dog teeth they have in front? She’d tried to bite them with those. She’d see a raisin and do the same thing. Thought it was a tick and she hated them. I guess you’re like my old dog, P, ‘least when it comes to ticks.”

“Whatever. Just don’t even think about putting a tick on me because if you do you’ll be sorry. I would be mad about that for a long time.”