Last weekend, my son came home from college to take his girlfriend to her senior prom. (She is just under one year younger.) He shaved his “beard” off (I apply the quotes to keep him humble), got a haircut, and got fitted for a tux. By the end stage of his makeover, I have to admit, I was impressed. While I’m admittedly biased — and not always in the favor of my children — I had to look at him, and at the photos that followed of he with his attractive girlfriend on his arm, and estimate aloud that he could be a model. (Except that he does things like read Kierkegaard. That might get in the way.)

In the last 24 hours, I got a haircut, I got my back cracked by a chiropractor, I got a dental cleaning, and tomorrow I’m entering the early stages of some cosmetic dental work. Now I feel like I’m getting ready for a prom. Except there’s no hope of being a model. Every time I buy hair product, I’m just glad there’s still hair that needs it.

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