I'm not kidding; I'm worried about Dad and how he sounds, staring at himself in the bathroom mirror: "I'm going to move to Paris and just wear hair. I'll invent a whole new persona and be an aging Irish Rock Star...No one will know!"
"We'll go to museums and restaurants and I'll have...hair "
Mom can't stop laughing, but I can tell; she's looking at him in his hair and getting all hot over the idea of Dad as an Irish Rock Star.
"Really," she says to him. "You should just start wearing it on the plane, on the way to France and start a whole new life over there."
"It kinda makes my body look different, doesn't it?" Says Dad.
"It does," coos Mom, wearing her long platinum wig. "Your head looks so much bigger."
"First thing in the morning, I'm going to renew my gym membership. I'm gonna work out. "
Dad was getting excited looking at Mom in her wig. And then I had to witness the grossest thing I ever saw: my parents fucking in wigs, pretending that they were fucking complete strangers.
I did my best to stay out of their way, but they were all over the bed. Zelda was disgusted and walked out in protest. Finley slept through the whole embarrassing thing and I tried to hide up under the shams until it was all over.
They're sick, I tell you.