What Chicks Dig

I sat down at the computer tonight intent on writing something thoughtful. Heartfelt. Poignant.

But every time I started to type, some distraction foiled my plan. The sound of dishes clanging against the sink downstairs. A child crying for his binky. Chatter from the TV down the hall. Engine noise from a car down the street. Growls from my own quiche filled stomach.

So.

One of these nights I will write the heartfelt post I wanted to write tonight. Maybe one night when even the sound of my own typing, doesn't cause me to lose my train of thought. But for tonight I will share something I wrote years ago. I stumbled upon it yesterday when searching through an old memory box.

Prepare yourself for a poem about what girls want in a guy, through the eyes of the teenage Helen. Uncensored, un-cut, and a tad embarrassing.

What Chicks Dig
by Helen Robison

Chicks did guys with shaggy hair
as long as they don't wear no white underwear.
With washboard stomachs and a stylish flare.
Chicks dig guys with shaggy hair.

Chicks dig guys with clean toenails.
With white bright smiles and short fingernails.
Sparse cologne and no name brand shirts,
as long as they don't have a case of the squirts.

Chicks dig guys that know how to cook,
How to fix a tractor and read a book.
They comment on more than the way you look,
chicks dig guys that know how to cook.

Chicks dig guys that are sweet to their moms.
You won't see'em blushing even in a sarong.
They like to surprise you in funny ways,
and will think your the greatest for all of their days.

The end.

He knows how to read, has nice abs, and he doesn't have a case of the squirts? Evidently these are the makings of a true love.

Ha!