Yesterday afternoon I sat down on the floor to change the baby. As I lingered there, playing with her, Wonderboy came up behind me and leaned against me for a little while. He loves to supervise my baby-tickling. Then he began—oh, it was so sweet!—to gently stroke my hair. For several minutes I sat there enjoying the soft touch of his hand on the back of my head. He was chuckling softly, and I was just melting.
Then he touched my arm, and his fingers were slimy. Startled, I turned to look at him and there he stood with a big happy grin, one hand glistening with goo—and an open jar of Vaseline in the other.
My hair is very shiny today.
I Have Told This Story Before
Things to Remember
A Forgotten Day Remembered