Will You Still Need Me? Will You Still Feed Me?

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!!!!