Cherry Boy

Kids With Dog: Sensei!! Sensei!! [running hysterically at me when they see me approaching]

Me: Hey, kids. [slowing to a stop and taking my sunglasses off]

Kids With Dog: Sensei, this is our dog! His name is Cherry, because he's a cherry boy. Know what that means?

Me: I can guess…

Kids With Dog: NO SEX! He's never had sex. Poor dog. Poor you, Cherry.

[They pay him. Cherry the rust-coloured spaniel looks quizzically at us as he pants and then strains at the leash to sniff at some shit]

Me: How old is Cherry?

Kids With Dog: Like, four, so if he was a human he'd be probably your age. Ahaha!! You guys could go out.

Me: Yay, true, or we couldn't!

Kids With Dog: You're old. Do you have lots of sex, then, Sensei?

Me: What?!

Kids With Dog: That means yes!! Hahaha! Or, wait, maybe it means no. Maybe you're Cherry Sensei! Ho ho ho!

Me: What are you guys, like seven? Eight? Eight, is it? You shouldn't say those sorts of things to people like me, otherwise I might take away your birthday and beat you to death with it.

Kids With Dog: …You can really do that?

Me: Heck yes I can.

Kids With Dog: [meekly and with stifled giggles] Sorry, Sensei. Do, uh… d'you wanna pat Cherry Boy?

Me: Yes - yes, I do.

[We all appreciatively pat Cherry Boy and he pants up at us happily.]

As I make moves to leave, Cherry Boy suddenly closes his mouth, swallows, and in one elegant movement, rises to his hind legs and starts humping my leg like a mad thing.

Hilarity ensues. We say goodbye. And I pedal away in search of my dignity (though I have a feeling it's smeared all over Cherry Boy's hairy lipstick...)