The other day, Katie was examining the beard that I still am growing (hey, the Blackhawks have advanced to the second round of the playoffs; my loyalty remains) when the following conversation occurred.
Katie: Ahhhh! You've got grey hairs!
Kevin: Yes I do. I'm getting old.
Katie: No! You can't grow old!
Kevin: I don't think I have a choice in the matter.
Katie: Don't worry, we'll just die [this was how I heard it].
Katie: Yeah, we'll just have Amy [her hairdresser] dye it.
Kevin: Oh! "Dye"! I thought you said "die."
Katie: Why would I say that?
Kevin: I dunno. I thought you were on a Who kick. You know, like "hope I die before I get old."
Glad we cleared that one up. Phew!
I went to lunch with Katie earlier today.
On the way home, I was greeted with this outside our house. There was actually a fourth squad car out of frame. I still would like to know what happened.
We live in such a ghetto.