By utilizing my expert skills in lying and self-control, I have managed to convince my daughter that I am not ticklish (of course her inept tickling technique helps too). This gives me the upper hand in many arguments/tickle-fights, although now I have to dread the day that she starts reading this blog.
Anyway, the other day, frustrated by her inability to successfully tickle me, my daughter made an announcement. "I know a place where EVERYONE is ticklish!" she said gleefully.
"Where's that?" I asked, tensing my armpits.
My daughter pointed at her crotch and waggled her fingers mischieviously.
Thankfully, my wife took it upon herself, heroically, to have a little chat with our daughter about how it wouldn't really be polite to tickle people in the crotch (at least not children). If she hadn't done that, I think I would have just thrown in th e towel on this whole parenting thing. "Kid, you're on your own, now!" I would have declared. My family is spared this announcement for at least another day.
I don't, however, think that anyone ever had that discussion with Michael Jackson. And that's what's wrong with the world today.