Sometimes things just don’t add up. While it’s not like a single phrase will have me running towards the hills, if I hear him utter these words, I will do a double-take (and not the good kind):

• I was a late-bloomer growing up. On the surface this doesn’t sound bad at all. But in my experience, this kinda boy is aching for pity points. He’s trying to say that he was a shy kid with minimal social skills. He probably talked with eyes glued to the floor and left toe faintly drawing half circles in the ground. The problem is that he never went through the crazy-love-sick-teenage dating drama during his teenage years. So, that when I’m meeting him now and he’s in his 30s, his dating style is similar to that of a hormonally charged teenage boy.

• I don’t like to share my food. I love food. I adore the gluttonous feeling of tomato sauce dripping from a pizza slice onto my greasy waiting lips. I marvel at the artery clogging powers of the oozing melty cheese; all atop glorious bread. I want to share these moments with my friends, my family…just about everyone I care about. And if you care about me, you’ll share your food dammit!

• Chilvalry is dead. Created in the Middle Ages to combat brutality, ignorance and prejudice, chilvalry is not dead. All these things still exist today and while it’s a term often associated with boys, I believe it can go both ways.