In the morning when we eat breakfext, we often FaceTime with Grandma Carol. It should be no surprise to you that my son often says or does things that produce admiration and praise from his grandma. It’s what grandmas do. And as the mother, I also claim that my son is spectacular.
A portion of this morning’s FaceTime chat with GC is worth documenting. It’s short, but it is also “yuuuuuge.”
GC to my son: You have so much gorgeous hair.
Me: Say “thank you.”
My son: I have Donald Trump’s hair.
Do I need to tell you that we laughed? A lot. And then wondered aloud to each other where that kind of statement would have come from. Has someone told him he has the Donald Trump’s hair? I haven’t. Maybe his dad has?
No. I checked. My husband has never said anything comparing our son’s gorgeous hair to the President-Elect’s mystery coif.
I know there have been times when my son’s hair shows some minor minor minor similarities to P-E Trump’s hair.
But I submit to you that he does not actually have Donald Trump’s hair. No matter what he may claim.