You know that awkward moment when you realise just how wrong the words were that came out of your mouth but life comes with neither a rewind switch nor a rewind button so the words are out there forever. The best you can hope for is that no-one recorded them and in an instant uploaded the conversation to a YouTube or Sound Cloud or something. Then, like Snap chat the whole thing might disappear into the ether and there will be no permanent record.
So it went like this.
Stylist: Now that we've shaken it out I might give it a final trim to make sure it's perfectly even.
Me: Okay great. Have you changed the product you use? It smells great. There's sort of an apricot essence
Stylist: Some times the manufacturers vary the formula.
Now in itself that conversation is fairly cringe worthy but it's the sort of chit chat that it pretty much par for the course - at a hairdresser. But I was collecting Rumple from the dog groomer and actually having a proper conversation about the formula used in the styling products. And yes I said "product". Seriously.
What I should have said was "how the hell do you make him sit still while you do that?". Because the fur friend sat their obediently like the child who is an angel at school but devil at home. But I didn't and I didn't ask if some dogs needed to be drugged or if anyone one human or animal was ever injured with those scissors. I asked about "product". And then I took Rumple home and posed him for the Christmas photo. There may be therapy available. I suspect it's too late.