At dinner, Eddie's sister was unusually quiet and shy, sullenly pushing around the vegetables on her plate while barely eating anything.
“Something the matter there, sport?” Mom asked, reaching over and slapping Eddie's sister on the back.
“You know I hate this stuff,” she replied.
“At least eat your chicken,” said Mom. “It'll put hair on your chest!”
Eddie couldn't help but giggle girlishly at the thought of his sister having a hairy chest.
“Oh, grow up Eddie,” chided Dad. “It's just an expression. Now let's change the topic to something happier. What did you do in school today, Eddie?”
“Me and Dave had cheerleader practice,” said Eddie, pausing to smooth out some wrinkles in his skirt. “It was like, totally awesome too! I did this rockin' aerial. And, oh my gawd, this totally incredible basket-toss that, like, you absolutely had to be there to see!”
Dad smiled, remembering his own long-forgotten glory days as a high school cheerleader. It made him proud to see Eddie following his footsteps, wearing the skirt and cheering for the same high school he himself had attended. Seeing his son so full of pep and school spirit made the old man forget his current lackluster life as a mild mannered secretary and housewife.
“I'd love to see you and the other boys do your routine,” Dad said gently.
“And I'd love to see the damned football team win a game,” growled Mom. “Eddie, you and the boys look cute in your uniforms and are obviously cheering your little hearts out. But honestly, can't the girls on the team win a game for once? What's their record now: two and six? Someone should whip those girls into shape, so they start winning games!”
“Now, now, dear!” chided Dad gently. “Here, have some more chicken.”