For some reason, she has taken a liking to telling me when she sees a man that is bald.
"Mama! I see a bald man," she tells me every now and then.
I am to the point now where I can nip it in the bud before she says it. My motherly instinct tells me before she says it. "Mama," she'll say, when a bald or balding man walks by.
"I know, Julia. I know what you see."