Jul 12, 2011 - 12:38 pm
My forty-ish middle son and I look amazingly alike these days. We both have very short, thin, salt-and-pepper hair. And since he is overdue for a haircut, and the back of his hair reaches almost to his collar, the style is very similar, too. Mine, of course, has more gray.
I think about my hair at least once a day. What I don't think about is the hair on the rest of my body - the hair I was happy not to have to deal with for a year and a half. I forget sometimes to shave my legs.
Last Friday I treated my daughter-in-law to pedicures, lunch, and a movie. I don't indulge in pedicures very often, but she really has done a lot for my youngest son and his kids, with absolutely no complaints. So I wanted to give Wendy a girls' day out.
I was really enjoying the whole pedi experience: the foot rub and the hot wax; the massage chair and the warm scented water. Until the little Asian beauty who was working on me motioned toward the top of my right foot and asked, "You want plucked?" EXCUSE ME????