When I went up to Nathan's daycare to pick him up after work, I noticed that his caregiver was sitting at the kitchen table counting a big stack of singles.
We have a solid relationship, so I decided to have a little fun with it.
"Are you going to a strip club this weekend?" I asked.
"NO!" She said emphatically. "A's mom works at a restaurant and pays me in cash from her tips."
"Maybe she's a stripper."
"She is not a stripper."
"Are you sure she's not a stripper?"
"I'm sure she's not a stripper. But I am upset that these bills always smell like cigarettes. She's a smoker."
"At least they don't smell like a G-string."
Fun times, indeed.