“Hory clap! Mom has gone and dunnit agin. Cut my hair, I mean. Remember how cute it usta be?”
That ↑ was before haircut #1 ↓.
But that was nothing compared to haircut #2. ↓
What the heck was the girl, aka his mother, aka my daughter, thinkin?
And did you see those cowlicks? The hairdresser says that he has two rather grievous ones. Actually, I think I see four. Whatever the number, it makes me truly afraid of what the Good Mother’s next step might entail. Perhaps hair today, gone tomorrow?
And that my dear friends also brings me to my puzzlement over gene pools, as in “Where did my DNA thingies get to?”
What I mean is that Nikki Dee has the squarish head shape of her daddy who in turn resembles his mother, Nikki Dee’s grand-mère. Now that we can see Zach’s head sans his crown of golden locks, it is plain that the shape of his noggin resembles the elongated one of his Francophone grand-père — as opposed to the more classic design of his much beloved Waspish grandfather (he said modestly).
This is all well and good. I mean to say that the kids are pretty good lookin and all, but it begins to make me wonder, “What the heck happened to Cuppa and AC’s DNA? Where did it go?” I mean to say, “What is the point of ever having sex if all dem good genes go AWOL after one measly generation?” (I’m sure there was another point to sex, except as I age, I begin to forget what it might have been.)
Ah well, considering how rapidly both my brain and body are deteriorating, perhaps it’s all for the best if my double helix gets nixed.
Whatever! I’m going to go now and grieve for the dilutification of my genes from the pool of life.