the “Rasta girls” are his new best friends

So he says to me last night “Mum, all girls are Rasta girls”
So I ask him “Am I a Rasta girl?”
He exclaimed, rolling his eyes at me Apparently boys can’t be Rasta’s either.

I just love how he calls them “the Rasta girls”. Conversations go like “I played in the sandpit with the Rasta girls”. Or, “the Rasta girls and I had a tea party”

OK, in fairness they call themselves “the Rasta girls”. Trinity, one of “the Rasta girls”, tells me yesterday “Us Rasta girls are KOOL girls”.

I tell you, this age kraks me up