Saga of the Three Chest Hairs
At our last family reunion, my brother-in-law revealed that by the time he reached adulthood, he had only managed to grow three chest hairs. However, these three he had treasured all his livelong days. He went on to say that with such manhood intact, life was good until recently.
My brother-in-law works at a hospital, and one day he was wearing his scrubs which are loosely tied at the neck. A co-worker walked by, glanced at his chest and said, “Oh, you’ve got a thread hanging . . . Here, let me take care of that . . . ” And, good grief, she just plucked that baby right out of there.
“Ahhhh!” he yelped, eyes popping wide open, and taking shallow breaths.
Well, of course he cried out!!! How could a guy be expected to maintain manly composure after something like that?
I personally think the following ditty will support recovery:
But two are left!
Now here’s a bit of advice. If ever a family member comes to you with a similar tale, retain a sober demeanor, hold your loved one’s hand, and offer sincere condolences because we utterly failed in that respect.