Conversations in which I have been involved lately.
Scene: CSP and I laying in bed about to fall asleep. Smackfest begins because sometimes we bicker and fight like children. I grab his wrist. He recoils in horror.
CSP: No! Don’t!
Me: What? What did I do?
CSP: You were trying to take my pulse. I don’t want anyone touching my pulse.
Me (looking out to hair girl’s backyard where I see something white and fluffy with bits of red. It is middle of Summer.): Is that a dead bunny?
My hair girl: No, that’s my Christmas hat.