Cami: What the hell is this thing sticking out of his face?
Me: I take it you are unfamiliar with ANIMALS. That’s called a whisker.
Cami: Yeah, duh, I know what a whisker is. Did you really just say that to me? What I’m asking is why is it back here away from all the other ones? It’s this lone hair hanging out on his cheek. If I yank it out will he bite me?
Me: Do not dare yank that out. How about I pinch your ear or flick you in the forehead? Maybe I should staple a gum wrapper to your nostril. Same thing.
Cami: BUT WHAT IS IT FOR? It’s freaking me out.
Me: You obviously need more hobbies.
Cami: Answer. The question.
Me: What the hell do I know. Don’t cats use their whiskers to feel their way around in the dark? Maybe it’s the same thing.
Cami: When is Chuck ever feeling his way around in the dark? He lives in a house and sleeps on a bed. It’s not like he’s out hunting mice in the middle of the night.
Me: I’m betting it’s his curb feeler.
Cami: What did you just say?
Me: His curb feeler. OMG, you don’t know what a curb feeler is. THE PERILS OF HANGING OUT WITH A 23-YEAR-OLD.
Cami: I pulled your kid’s tooth without knowing what a curb feeler is. You can have that engraved on the golden plaque you owe me.
Me: I haven’t seen any since I left the South, but it’s this long piece of metal you attach on or around the wheel of your car so that if you ever get really close to a curb it screeches and lets you know you’re about to bang up your paint job.
Cami: I love how you just made that up.
Me: I’m a professional blogger. It’s what I do.
Cami: You still haven’t answered the initial question.
Me: I don’t know the answer! You have a phone. Google it. Or better yet, ASK TWITTER.
Cami: Dear twitter, what is this wiry hair sticking out of Chuck’s face? Sincerely, Cami.
Me: Dear Cami, it means WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIE. Love, twitter.