Bold as Brass

I’m an Auskick coach. Today while tying shoelaces for one of my charges (one of the unavoidable tasks when you’re coaching seven-year-olds), he said to me “You’re bold, like my Dad.” I’m thinking “what on earth is he talking about?”, so I say “what do you mean?”, and he says “you’re going bold, just like my Dad.” At this stage I realise that he’s looking at the top of my head, and I also realise what he’s trying to say. Now, fast forward to the evening where I’m recounting this tale to my lovely wife, Deb. Remember also, constant reader, that every year when I switch back from Daylight Shavings Time to Standard Time, Deb comments that my hair is coming back a bit thinner on top, in all the standard male-pattern-baldness places. So I tell her the tale, and of course she laughs and exclaims that she’s been telling me that for years. To which I reply: “So what you’re telling me is that you have all the tact of a seven-year-old?”.

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