I went to my barber again this afternoon so I can get a haircut before I fly home to Manila for Christmas. While she was cutting my hair I asked her again to pull out any white hair that she sees.
“Sure,” she said while combing through my hair. “But I don’t see any white hair.”
“Really? Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Did someone pull it out for you?”
“No. You’re the one who pulled them out remember?”
“Well, I don’t see anything. Maybe they grow very slow.”
“Maybe.”
“So there. You look young again when you go fly home.”
“Nice.”