Tonight, a woman at WalMart stopped me. Twice.
The first time, she said, "I just wanted you to know that I raised two red headed sons of my own. Your family caught my eye when you walked by. I had to tell you."
She was gracious, and we shared a few stories of the best things about boys.
Then, aisles later, she stopped me again.
With a sly smile, "Ma'am, get a good hair dresser and a great confidante."
Sounds like solid advice. Will do.
(I liked her.)
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