Ho! there. Sitting with Dad this afternoon, I suddenly wondered whether I had blogged about "hair-brained daughters" or "hare-brained" ones. Which was right? What could it hurt to ask Dad?
Howie voted for hair-brained. I leaned toward hare-brained. The preschool class rabbit is a wonderful pet, but Norton isn't a rocket scientist. This led Dad to wonder aloud if I would trim his nose hairs. He came to his senses, though.
Dad's temper can be hair-trigger when he's had it up to here with his hare-brained daughters. Yes, he responds to the slightest provocation when we are giddy and flighty.
C! See you real soon.
Y! Why? Because we like you.
© 2010 Nancy L. Ruder