My darling, sweet, little boy goes to get a haircut today. It was the first time he let the stylist use the clippers without having to duct tape him to the chair… or see the other customers running out the door because their ears are bleeding from the screams of terror coming from my child.
So the husband takes the boy to get his haircut while I’m at work. Little angel boy is sitting in the chair when the stylist turns on the clippers. My precious child feels the clippers against the back of his neck and declares,
“Oh! My Mom has something at home that vibrates!”
I’ll just let that sink in for a moment…
Yeah. And I don’t know if you’ve ever met my son… but he’s not exactly good at accurately knowing his inside voice from his outside voice. So I’m sure the E.N.T.I.R.E. place heard my precious darling angel boy’s comment.
My husband, thinking fast on his feet, says to the boy, “Do you mean that pink crazy-looking neck massager.”
That’s right people… a NECK massager. Get your filthy minds out of the gutter.