The tub has been draining more and more slowly over the past few weeks. So with a heavy heart, I take off the drain cover. I don't even need a flashlight or a snake. I just reach in and pull out and pull out and pull out a mass of hair which finally reveals itself to be about the size of a baseball.
"What is that?" the six-year-old asks, properly horrified.
I look at all the long, long hairs making up the wretched clump and even in its state of semi-putrifaction it's clear that once upon a time the hairs had been a golden blonde.
"That," I sigh, "is love."
Why, just look at all that golden blonde love, simply biding its time.