The last time Reese saw teenhood was when the Beatles played as a foursome. Of course we're kidding when we say this, because there's nothing we would fancy better than having Reese play dress up and coming to our door with some high school algorithm problem. In turn, we would show her the conundrum involving our flacid penis, suggesting a mutual back scratching solution that wouldn't involve backs. Being the sport we know she is, Reese would agree and probably squirt across our living room, thus ruining the wall where hangs a portrait of our mother. But that's okay. Because mom would approve of us having a girlfriend like Reese.