Close shave...

We had been working for several weeks on our rental property in Sacramento, sleeping in sleeping bags, on borrowed army cots, eating lunch out of a styrofoam cold-keeper, and having breakfast out at our favorite place, BROOKFIELD'S Restaurant. Good coffee, hot oatmeal with bananas, raisins, brown sugar and cream.

The hostess, Patrice, and waitresses began to know us.

One morning, I noticed that Bob forgot to shave. I couldn't believe it. First time in 40 years of marriage, that he hadn't shaved. Honestly.

While he was gone from the table for a few minutes, I told the waitress, "I'll give you a dollar if you'll say to Bob, "Did you forget to shave this morning?"

She was too shy, but coaxed Patrice into doing it.

When Bob came back, she came over and stroked his face and exclaimed, "Did you forget to shave?"

He was SO embarrassed. But he laughed, as I told her it was the first time in 40 years. I slipped her the dollar.

A year or so later, we were back in Sacramento, and went to breakfast at Brookfield's. Patrice was still the hostess, and she gave us each a big hug. Then, she told us this story:

Recently a couple had come into the restaurant whom she thought was US. She walked over to them, stroked the gentleman's face and asked him if he forgot to shave? The man was surprised and the woman was shocked, and Patrice was embarrassed, and it wasn't us!