Yesterday, I got my haircut. This morning, as usual I walked with Erin to her bus stop. There I have several little pals with which I converse daily on all matter of subjects.
Little girl pal #1, (she eyes me in sort of a squinty look) “You look different.”
Me, “Oh yeah?”
Little girl pal #1, “Did you get a haircut?”
Me, “No . . . I didn’t get “a” haircut, I got a lot of hairs cut.”
Little girl pal #1, “Hhhmmn.”
Me, “Did I get too much cut off?”
Little girl pal #1, “Yeah . . . I can see through to your head.”
Enter little girl pal #2 to the conversation.
Little girl pal #2, (big eyes all sad) “My cat died.”
Me, “Oh wow, I’m sorry to hear that.”
Little girl pal #2, “I might get a puppy.”
Little girl pal #1, (not to be outdone) “My cat and Grandma and Grandpa died too . . .”
Me, “Wow, I’m really sorry to hear that.”
Little girl pal #1, “My cat was a boy.”
Little girl pal #2, (excited) “Wow, my cat was a boy too.”
Little girl pal #2, “That is SO amazing. That is SO amazing.“
Other little pals, (all screaming) “The busssssss!”
Conversation over.