As Mother and I were out and about the other day, she spied a toddler with magnificently braided hair. No child of two could have ever sprouted a head of hair like that. Mother was enchanted, unaware of the fashion options available to folks nowadays. She made a beeline for the child, even lifting a braid to examine it. I was worried it might come off in her hand. The whole time she was praising the beauty of the child and the hair to high heaven. The child’s parents, confused by this display from a frail octagenerian, fortunately didn’t attack Mother in defense of thei child, while I stood behind Mother, twirling my finger around my ears and crossing my eyes to indicate she was demented. Catching my sign, they friendlied up to Mother while rescuing the child and her hairdo. It was just another day out with Morher!