Straight

Thomas sighed again as he looked over the mounds of paperwork in front of him and slowly rolled his eyes until he figured that going strong for 4 hours was more than enough **** for one lifetime and made to turn off the light next to his reading spot. He noticed, almost belatedly, that the light was on in the bedroom, he supposed that Darlene had forgotten to turn it off and with that, he just sighed again and slipped the rest of the papers into his bag, figuring he would go and check on them in the morning. As he finished checking the rest of the house to make sure that the doors and windows were closed for the evening, he spotted the packet on the table next to his glasses and smiled a bit. How on earth did such a silly quiz become a source of fun and interest was beyond him...but hey, what the hell, right?

He took a moment to look at the question and chewed on the tip of his pen (a pet peeve of Darlene's, which he in part wondered if that was the cause he had continued to go and do it.)

3.) IF YOU WERE A GIRL...WOULD YOUR HAIR BE STRAIGHT OR CURLY?

Thomas glanced at his reflection in the mirror and shook his head. He had never been one for a lot of hair but even now, pushing his late 50s, he sort of missed the fact that he started to lose it. He was never vain but, even for a man, one did not let losing hair slip without feeling some sort of remorse or becoming upset enough to drink into oblivion. Besides, this was a question about if he were a girl.

He thought then about the women in his life, namely Darlene and his mother. His wife had kept her hair cut short, almost like what the kids called "A Karen cut" these days, and Thomas couldn't help but laugh at that. She embodied the Karen spirit, always demanding perfection from everyone and then bitching when it didn't come out right the first time. He had lost quite a few bucks slipping extra tips into the hands of waiters as he goose-stepped his wife out of a restaurant or three in his day. Still, for her short stature and body, a short cut was actually better for her.

His mother was the same. She was a saint of all women, as far as the women in the nursing home had to say, but she was trying to get into heaven and this was NOT the same women he had grown up with. Jolene was a **** to be reckoned with, alright, with her prim and properly set hair kept short and neat with copious amounts of spray and pins after pins. He wondered if that was where the aversion to pins came from.

If I were a girl, my hair would be straight and long, at least down past my shoulders, maybe even longer depending. I would also not have to worry about losing them, even when I grew old. He laughed a little at that last part before he set the papers down and turned off the light. He made it into the bedroom and spotted Darlene passed out on the bed, drool coming from her mouth, papers and bags strewn next to her. He just rolled his eyes, tucked her into bed, and then gave up trying to move things around and pulled out a blanket and pillow before moving to the couch. It would be much easier (And better for his sanity) to sleep there. Banshee or not, a pissed off woman was not the way he wanted to start his weekend.

He moved his head slightly and brushed the strand of hair that moved around his face and tucked himself in as comfortably as he could, not noticing how the small spot of hair started to grow and lengthen as he fell asleep.

4.) IF YOU WERE A GIRL...WHAT WOULD BE YOUR FAVORITE COLOR?