I should probably preface this entry by letting you know that my grandmother is legally blind.
I should also probably state that while I normally only like to write about things I experience firsthand (except for the monster stuff -- I get most of that from reliable sources (minus the one time I discovered The Myrtle Beach Sea Monster on my own (and yes, I'll be plugging that discovery until the day I die))), this was too damn funny (at least to me) to keep to myself.
Ok. Got it? Good. Let's roll.
My grandmother, like a lot of little old ladies, does her hair once a week. Unlike my other grandmother who would walk half a mile every Saturday morning to the beauty shop to have her hair done, she does it herself.
Over the weekend, she removed the rollers out from under the sink and started putting them in her hair. She picked up one and said, "This one feels limp. It must be broken." Her internal monologues are largely external. She placed the roller back on the counter.
After putting a few more rollers in her hair, she picked up the broken roller again. And once again, it didn't feel right to her. So she brought it closer to her eyes.
And that's when she discovered her roller had legs.
And it's also when she discovered her roller was a dead mouse.
Hair (Not To Be Confused With My Last Post)
