Call Me Cyrano.

Today we drove about an hour north to my parent's house for dinner. My Dad is a commercial fisherman and we're trying to get him as much G time as possible before he leaves for Alaska for the spring and summer.
I asked my Mom to drag out some old photos to see if we could find any where G looks like me. I'm getting desperate - the only resemblance at this juncture is his wispy hair that on some days looks like a comb over, and my eyes. I dug through a few boxes - I love old photos. The hideous hairdos, embarrassing fashion choices...good times, good times.
Toward the end, I pulled out a photo of my Mom and Aunt, who are fraternal twins. B stopped and looked at the photo, looked at me, then looked back at the photo.
"Wow. You really look like your Aunt."
His next sentence:
"Is this before she had her nose job?"


Heather said...

Men! Sometimes they really need to think before they speak.

Heather D said...

Yeah, he didn't mean anything by it...but shoot! Oh well. He did major backpedaling after that!

Andrea said...

Oh B, so much to learn...

Nothing. NOTHING. Will ever top when Arthur freaked out when I was putting on his XL basketball shorts because he thought I'd stretch them out. For the record, they fell off me.