My son is essentially a clean-shaven Ron Swanson.
We struggle to find dinner foods that he will try, and his lunch often comes home from school half eaten, but serving him breakfast is like putting paper in a shredder. Waffles, french toast, pancakes — our expenditures on maple syrup may well be keeping Canada afloat. He likes toast and bagels and cereal and eggs. When his school made him a custom shirt, printing onto the back the quotation for which he is most well-known, this is what he got.
As for the other half of the equation … well, let’s just say many of his teachers, aides, and therapists are in fact dark-haired woman, and he is uncharacteristically compliant in their company. He will basically do anything if it’s a pretty girl asking. My wife has a theory as to where he gets this.