The other night, Mom was over and I showed her a friend's recent referral picture. A little one with a beautiful head of hair. I pointed out how much hair she has and Mom said (while I held my breath, arched a brow, and shifted my eyeballs in her direction), "It looks like she has Good Hair...or I should probably say soft hair."
Sweet. I guess my joking (but not really) comment that being continually told I do NOT have The Good Hair has left me traumatized well into adulthood has actually resonated with mother and she's making an effort to improve her vocabulary.
Bless. I get rather verklempt at the thought.
