Here comes the barber with big silver scissors and prosthetic fingers. Uh huh….likerubber fingers, on his hand and they had turned orange, (I’m guessing from using chemicals for disinfectant.)
I’m trying to not look. Be cool. Normally seeing someone with a prosthetic is not a big deal but he is standing there with scissors and to two, two year old it looks like he accidentally cut off his own fingers!
I am trying so hard to act like this is not happening and trying to distract the boys from pointing and screaming. I am waving the lollipop and saying, “look what I have! When you all done you can have this! I have a FINGER….I MEAN lollipop when you are done!” Then, “He’s almost done with your FINGER…I MEAN HAIR!…”
I turn into Elaine from Seinfeld or Old Christine whenever I get nervous. I could not stop saying finger. Their eyes followed his hands everywhere they went and I finally just unwrapped three lollipops and stuck one in each of our mouths.