While jokingly discussing past lives in the car today:
Her: I was a piece of hair in my last life that got pulled out.
Me: Wait. That GOT pulled out? Or that GOD pulled out?
Me: Oh I thought you meant God. Like, maybe God is this guy with really amazing hair, but he has an anxiety disorder so he pulls out his hairs and every time he pulls one out, it falls to earth and becomes a human.
Her: I think every time I pull out a hair, I’m actually killing a person.
Me: Wait. Are we the gods? Or are we god’s hairs?
Her: We’re the gods.
Me: Maybe it’s like the Neverending Story. We’re the hairs of God and we’re the gods of hairs.
Me: Remind me to blog this conversation when we get to Starbucks.