You know it’s going to be a bizarre day when you’re jogging around the track at the rec center, see yourself in the full-length mirror and think to yourself, wow I look like Forrest Gump in that scene when he’s running across the country.  My hair was poofed out from an evening of Charlotte “shampooing” it with some strawberry-scented kid conditioner and air drying.  Not a good look, especially with a baseball cap and ill-fitting fleece jacket.  (I am always cold so I work out with layers.)  Fortunately I had a haircut scheduled immediately after.  I overhead one of the reception desk girls in the salon calling a client to confirm her appointment tomorrow.  Of course I found it hilarious that she kept repeating the name of the business, like 5 times, before it clicked to the lady on the other end.  Same thing I would do–space and not even remember where I go for highlights.  Good thing I have the salon number programmed in my cell phone so it pops up when they call!  The other funny thing–the girls tell me calling to confirm guys’ haircuts is interesting.  Not surprisingly, if a wife answers hearing some young chick ask to speak with her husband causes defensiveness.  ”Who is this?” they often respond in a not-so-nice tone.  Or they just assume it’s a telemarketer.

Posted under Baby Thomas: Month 44