“You like chest hair.” Lois shrugs and picks up a piece of croissant off my plate. “No, I don’t. Well, I mean, I don’t mind it. I can go either way, but not when the man has a bird’s nest under his chin. Did you see the spinach that was caught up in it? There was actual spinach in his chest hair, green spinach.” “Nothing wrong with saving a snack for later,” Clea says. Roxane claps her hand over her mouth and shakes her head. “Please, let’s move past the spinach snack in the chest hair.”
