You know it's getting bad when your six year-old goes to hug you, and then says,
"Mommy, ALL your hair is turning gray!"
I think that may be a slight exaggeration. It's not ALL gray. In fact, it's more brown than gray. But since she was so nice to point it out, I told her that all my gray hairs were named Kylie. Then I amended that, and decided that half of them were named Kylie, and the other half were named Shannon.
"What about Danni?", who was sitting on the couch three feet from me.
"Surprisingly, only a couple of them are named Danni."
Danni then gave Kylie her best smug "I am the favorite child" smile.
Let me point out that I do not play favorites among my children. Danni was only my favorite yesterday. This may change tomorrow, or even today after school. It's very situational. Shannon might even be my favorite again. Someday.
Then Kylie kept trying to get me to admit that some of my gray hairs were named Bo. Bo is our dog, and the only member of the family who has never given me a gray hair. Nevertheless, she kept on with her insistence that some of my gray hairs must be named Bo. I said,
"No, but there are also a few named DADDY!"
We all dissolved into giggles. We were having fun, and I realized that the cheerful mood in the house was most likely because Shannon was at the mall.
After husband went to pick Shannon up later, she came into the house and flopped on the couch, not missing a beat in her texting. Danni walked in the room, and I looked at her and said,
"A dark cloud descends upon the house."
Then we both busted out laughing.
Shannon was not amused.