A few months ago, DD had started this habit of chewing on her hair. Nothing we said or did made her stop the habit. It was just too delicious to drop.
Now this great habit, led to an upset stomach, a case of diarrhea. Well that at least was our immediate conclusion when DD fell sick.
So I booked an appointment with - the hair stylist, yeah, I felt like I knew the cause of the problem to even consider consulting a doctor. So I took her to the parlor and got her a nice short haircut.
Turns out, like most things in life, I was not right about the cause of her diarrhea. Her class had a pet tortoise. That tortoise ended up with diarrhea and infected the whole class.
"See Mamma, it was not the hair. Now I look like a boy!" she cried.
I saw this as another teaching moment.
I apologized to her for my mistake, acknowledging that I had been hasty, and said that even girls could have short hair.
DD being DD quoted Rapunzel, Snow White and Cinderella, the clear representatives of the female world. "They don't have short hair."
"No, normal people, those that don't come in stories." I persisted.
"Well, you don't have short hair."
I was the only normal person she could think of. Normal.
"Ok fine. I said."
That evening, at pickup, I had said goodbye to my long tresses. I was feeling confident. I hated my haircut, but I was feeling confident in my decision.
"Hello young man!", my friend greeted me at pickup.
"It's bad, isn't it?" I acknowledged. "But it's a teaching moment."
"What about the next few months that follow this moment? You going to use a hat?"
DD did notice my hair, and felt happy that her hair cut was better than mine. I was the best example for a woman with real short hair and a great example of why you should not sleep when somebody is cutting your hair, even if it's very soothing on the head.
Now, DD's hair has grown back pretty well. Mine - it's growing out. It's like it has a mind of its own and it feels liberated to grow in any direction. My right side is screaming porcupine, my left is flowing downstream. I can't get another haircut because there IS no hair to cut!
But, point proven, I guess.
(Image credit: Pixabay)
Now this great habit, led to an upset stomach, a case of diarrhea. Well that at least was our immediate conclusion when DD fell sick.
So I booked an appointment with - the hair stylist, yeah, I felt like I knew the cause of the problem to even consider consulting a doctor. So I took her to the parlor and got her a nice short haircut.
Turns out, like most things in life, I was not right about the cause of her diarrhea. Her class had a pet tortoise. That tortoise ended up with diarrhea and infected the whole class.
"See Mamma, it was not the hair. Now I look like a boy!" she cried.
I saw this as another teaching moment.
I apologized to her for my mistake, acknowledging that I had been hasty, and said that even girls could have short hair.
DD being DD quoted Rapunzel, Snow White and Cinderella, the clear representatives of the female world. "They don't have short hair."
"No, normal people, those that don't come in stories." I persisted.
"Well, you don't have short hair."
I was the only normal person she could think of. Normal.
"Ok fine. I said."
That evening, at pickup, I had said goodbye to my long tresses. I was feeling confident. I hated my haircut, but I was feeling confident in my decision.
"Hello young man!", my friend greeted me at pickup.
"It's bad, isn't it?" I acknowledged. "But it's a teaching moment."
"What about the next few months that follow this moment? You going to use a hat?"
DD did notice my hair, and felt happy that her hair cut was better than mine. I was the best example for a woman with real short hair and a great example of why you should not sleep when somebody is cutting your hair, even if it's very soothing on the head.
Now, DD's hair has grown back pretty well. Mine - it's growing out. It's like it has a mind of its own and it feels liberated to grow in any direction. My right side is screaming porcupine, my left is flowing downstream. I can't get another haircut because there IS no hair to cut!
But, point proven, I guess.
(Image credit: Pixabay)
