But, she was completely out of her league. How on earth could a man as outrageous and forward as Clint be so good with kids? It just wasn’t fair. No... only is he sexy as hell with his dark hair and clear blue eyes, but he looked to be in pretty good shape, too. And we can’t forget about that kiss. Any man that can kiss a woman like he did, well, it’s just not fair. Too bad I’ve sworn off men like him, she thought to herself. Been there, done that, got the divorce papers to prove it. A man like. He even once asked her what masturbation was, having heard the word on TV. Debbie had explained it without shame, saying it was 'when boys and girls play with themselves because it feels good, and it simulates the pleasures of sex but without an actual partner.’ It wasn't an explicit description, but nonetheless it was far better than the reaction of most mothers, who would have been mad that their eleven-year-old son knew such a word! Debbie simply said that 'all boys' do it when they enter. Perhaps I am just not paying attention, since I never want to encourage strangers to make passes at me. I just hate that," she exclaimed, "I always had!" She frowned, "I try to look attractive, and some man decides that now he can fondle me on the streetcar, or say things about my breasts just to make his friends laugh!" I understand," I said appeasingly. "And I agree, perhaps it's not right for you to look for that sort of attention in public. And it's very difficult, I'm sure, for you to. ‘Of course I don’t blame you at all, you have no need to make excuses I think it is a super idea, but we have always been good sisters sharing most things huh?’ ‘What are you saying Henrietta?’ ‘Well perhaps – when you take on this new cleaner of yours, you might invite me around for tea, just so I can vet him, after all I wouldn’t like my sister to be conned would I? – and I would want to see he is doing a good job!’ ‘That is a fine excuse, Henrietta, I know you better than that. But of course.