It's Genetic, Apparently
So, I get home tonight and get this story.
We have this guy who lives on the block who walks around with a pistol strapped onto his hip like it's the wild wild west. Today, as the wife and chilluns was coming come, he was out front of his house, gun strapped on, but shirtless.
This is a guy who shouldn't be forgoing a shirt in public. It's hard to decide which is more unbalanced: the handgun or the naked man gut bared to the unsuspecting and innocent.
The family gleefully relates this story, and then MPC1, who's 11, pretend grabs her (nonexistent, of course) beer belly (in imitation of mr-have-gun-will-travel), and says, "Uhyuh, [loud exhale], this is what I call a six-pack, because that's what it's made of."
Yes, it was hers; she'd made it up on the spot.
Me and the missus were so proud.