I cropped his name and all identifying info, but I will say he’s 20 and lives near my office, so if I ever want to feel like I’m fucking the youth out of someone on my lunch hour, this intrepid young lad is at the ready. Sold, Toddler. Let’s do this.
Hm. It’d be great if youth were an STD, like if I let this kid do things to me and suddenly I had tons more energy and drank hard lemonade and all my laugh lines were gone. Get on that, science. (Except the hard lemonade. Gross.)
I also love how this proposition is supposed to improve my mood, like, “Wow, that was a shitty day at work and those shoes made my feet hurt and I’m really not looking forward to that family gathering this weekend… But a Cub Scout wants to bang me, so wheeeeee!”