My mother really slayed today. She’s undergoing her third round of chemo, and I called her at the hospital to entertain her with the story about Canadian concentration camps.
“Ah!” she said. “I know what we should do. I’ll take off my wig, and we’ll ask the nurse to snap a pic of me holding it. Then you can tell your colleague that Canadians scalped me.”
I’d do it if I didn’t fear that the colleague would take it seriously.
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