So the husband calls Sawyer "Red."
And Sawyer is making a habit of calling his daddy "Black" in return.
After such an exchange last night, I asked Sawyer what he would call me if I started calling him "Red."
Without missing a beat, he grinned that freckle-faced toothy grin and said, "Gray."
Thanks a lot, kid.
I will now be scheduling a colorpy with my hairapist.
Speaking of hairapy. I got a new sassafras cut the other day. I've been waiting until I was all fixed up and had my cute on to take some pictures, but since I never go anywhere and rarely slosh makeup on my face anymore, you are going to have to deal with the wrinkled raccoon-eyed picture that was taken that afternoon.
Labels: Being Boy Crazy