“Can I comb your hair, Daddy?”
“Sure you can.” He replied.
She combed what little hair he has left at the top (I call his hair The Dr.Phil Lite) carefully, trying to get every hair in place.
When she finished, she exclaimed “I combed it exactly the way you like it!”
She took him by the hand and walked him down the hall into the bathroom so he could look in the mirror.
“I love it!” He said. “But I sure do wish I had more hair.”
“Well” she said, all matter of fact like. “Why don’t you choose Bosley then?”
We both laughed until it hurt.