Just the other day, after Hubby returned from getting his hair cut, we found ourselves in conversation that went something like this. . .
Mom on Spin: If I ever start growing hairs on my chin. . . would you tell me?
Drip Dry: Sure, I'd tell you. . .
Mom on Spin: But, what if I couldn't see them. . . would you pluck them?
Drip Dry: No way! I'm not plucking your chin! You'd have to do that yourself.
Mom on Spin: Well good luck with your old-man nose hair then! You're gonna have them, you know! And don't you think that one day you'll be begging me to do some ear-hair trimming . . . but I will just turn a blind eye. . . or perhaps a deaf ear. . .
Drip Dry: Well . . .Ha! You're the one that's gonna have to look at it anyway, so I won't care!
Mom on Spin: Well I won't care either!
Drip Dry: Yeah?
Mom on Spin: Yeah! It will serve you right for not plucking my chin when I need you!
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So remember how this is My Perfect Week?
Well, I wasn't really truthful about how it all began.
As my husband and I were bidding each other a fond farewell in the bright sunshine of the church parking lot yesterday morning, we found ourselves in a conversation that went something like this. . .
Mom on Spin: Now keep an eye on those daughters of ours. . . just because they're on a church trip doesn't mean that they can't find some way to get themselves in trouble. . .
Drip Dry: Oh my God! You have one!
Mom on Spin: What?
Drip Dry: A hair! Here. . . let me get it for you. . .
Mom on Spin: Whaaaaat? A hair? Like on my chin???
Drip Dry: Yeah, nobody's looking I'll just . . .
Mom on Spin: Ouch!!!!
