"Pardon?" I'm combing through my conditioned hair with my finger tips in the shower. I glance over at him. His face is the perfect combination of horror/disgust/concern. He directs my gaze to the shower wall, where I have been depositing my 'extra' hair.
I shrug. "Relatively," I say. "Since I've had the cold, I probably haven't been brushing it as much - I haven't washed it in a couple of days..." I shrug again.
"You're sure you're not secretly undergoing chemotherapy?" This seems to be a real possibility for him.
"Yes, I'm sure. I promise that I would let you know. It's an ebb and flow thing. I'm not bald, so hair must also be growing."
"Okay." He doesn't look convinced.
"You can feel for yourself if you like..." I offer.
He looks even more horrified, the thought of handfuls of my hair left in his grasp makes his eyes go wide.
"Think of it this way... now we have a fun shower game: Translate the Hairoglyphics!!"
"You're not normal."
"Well no, but in fairness, you knew that when you married me."
symbol for Cancer - grass - ass?
|In the sink after combing through again|
|What is NOT in my shower drain.|