Anyone who knows me well knows that I have an aversion to hair in places it shouldn't be. Like on the soap. Or in the shower. Or on a sink. It grosses me out for some reason. Has for a long time.
Leaving church tonight, as we are getting into the car, I find a long, light hair on my jacket. I make the appropriate "Yuck" noises and throw it out the window.
TJ is fascinated by this and wants to know where the hair is now.
"TJ," I tell him, "don't worry about it, it's in the snow."
"Get it!" he says.
"No, TJ, it's gone. It's a hair. We don't want it in here."
"C'mon," he says, "I just want to start a hair collection."