to still be alive. Just sayin'.
She was walking
behind me as we were carrying stuff out to the car the other day, and
the sun was shining brightly. She asked me in all seriousness, "Mom, do
you still have white paint in your hair?"
Silver. As a matter of fact, I washed the paint I did get in my hair
out a few days ago. You know, after we finished painting the room?!"
"Oh...you mean that's ALL GRAY HAIR? You have THAT MUCH GRAY HAIR?! HOLY CRAP!"
belatedly realized the danger she was in. Maybe it had something to do
with how quickly I whipped around to face her. It might have had to do
with my narrowed eyes and clenched teeth. Or perhaps it was the steam
coming out of my ears...
"It looks GREAT on you, Mom...really!!" she said in a quavering voice.
And so she lives to annoy me another day.