Overheard Whilst in My Bathrobe

Early this AM, I met my dad on the stairwell as I stumped grouchily tea-wards and he trundled up in search of, from the looks of it, his hairbrush. We grunted at each other and shot a little half-wave, half-salute out from hip level, our customary pre-caffeine greeting.

Then, as I hit the downstairs hallway, his voice echoed back at me thoughtfully: "We are just two snips, passing in the flight."