Losing the plot

I had a worrying episode of absent mindedness today. I was out with my three year old son when an elderly lady became quite smitten with him (he is rather a fine looking child, though I say so myself). After telling me what a delightful little boy I had, she went on to tell me he had lovely strawberry blond hair and asked whether I thought he'd keep it. Being rather sparse and shiny on top myself, I told her that baldness usually skips a generation, so he had a pretty good chance of keeping his fetching locks.

It was only several hours later, at dinner, that I realised that her comment was nothing to do with the fact that I was bald (which is the sort of personal remark you wouldn't expect from someone of that generation), but she was simply asking whether I thought my son would retain his current hair colour as he grew up. I clearly need to get out more before I completely lose the knack of making small talk...