"Mom, I have to talk to you," said my youngest, a worried look on his face.
"What is it?' I ask.
"Mom, there are little hairs in my sink."
My husband had shaved in the kids bathroom this morning, since I had already taken over our sink getting ready to go for an audition.
"Those are Daddy's, from shaving."
"Oh!" he said, relieved, "I was afraid we might have tarantulas."
2 comments:
Hi Deb,
I like your blog. Your mother and I are frinds. We spent 12 years together in school. Grew up together in dear ole South Point.
I made a mistake while searching out your blog this time. I accidentially clicked on the flag and it said I had flagged it as objectinable. Hope you are able to get that removed because I have not seen anything objectinable. My apologies for any inconvenience. Will try to control arthritic fingers a bit better when I visit.
Keep up your good work. I enjoy reading other people's blogs. Your mother is very proud of you. You are quite a talented and busy gal. Best wishes for all of your days ahead.
Jan
Thanks Jan! No one has called me objectionable yet, so I think it is okay...:)
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