Nan was always active. New things, new places, new activities were always at the top of her list. Jean was quieter. She was interested in new things a...d new ideas, but the mother role subdued and limited what she attempted. Nan’s body was lush, padding in all the right places. As that other blond, Goldilocks, would say: not too much, not too little, just right. That wasn’t quite right: her boobs were spectacular. Jean was slender, with well-defined muscles from working out regularly. She had. Mom had been alone for nine years now.We talk several times a week and I try to visit at least once a week, but the past two weeks had been so busy that I’d missed lunch with her last Sunday. When she saw me at the door she looked quizzically at me and asked “Yes?”“Mom, it’s me, Dag.” Is she losing it?“What happened to your hair?” I realized she hadn’t seen me clean shaven since I got out of the Navy and I’d completely forgotten that Sinclair had dyed my hair.“Oh. I got a job. I have to look. More

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