Martin do you think I should colour the bit of grey in my hair?
Yes, bit, you evil man. I don’t have that much grey. My mother had her lovely natural colour until she was much old than me.
Harriet, your mother had dyed hair from the day I met her.
She did not!
Ok, whatever you say. No Harriet I don’t think you should colour it. I think you have beautiful hair. I’ve always thought so.
Why didn’t you ever say anything, Martin? I’d have loved to hear that all these years.
I don’t know. I guess we never say what we’re all about until it’s too late.
Yes. Seems you’re getting a second chance to tell me all those nice things now, eh Martin?
Ah, so this is all about my second chances, is it? Not like you needed this situation for any second chances?
Well Martin, think about it. Living with you caused me to grow these grey hairs, so it seems only fair you’d be here to atone for that, doesn’t it?
Your logic is not only grossly illogical, but it gives me a headache, if that’s possible.
Sorry Martin. I’m fresh out of etheric aspirin. I could crush a regular one and put it in the vaporizer for you. It might help. Mist meets mist, kind of thing.
You really did miss your calling, Harriet. The world of stand-up lost a real gem.
You give me so much to work with, Martin. Fodder for my pen.
You know I love you, don’t you?
What’s the matter Martin? What’s going on?
Nothing. I just wanted you to know that for sure. Grey hair and all, I love you.
I love you, too, Martin. Ectoplasm and all, I love you.
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