Touche

Parker was in the mudroom in between basketball games.  His junior high team had just won its first tournament game by 30 points.  He was changing into his super league uniform to head off to a game his team would win by 10 points.  When I came across him, his shirt was off and his back was to me.

"Aaaarghh!"  I screamed, shading my eyes.  "What is that?  Oh…it's the glare off your skin."

Parker slowly turned around, gazed at me for about 7 seconds with an almost bored, semi-disgusted, "really?" look in his eyes.  Then, with complete disdain for his old man's attempt to tease him about his fair complexion, he pointed at his six-pack and replied:  "Call me when you get one of these."

Touche!