The oatmeal was ready and I called everyone to the table and as I set my bowl in front of L, I noticed it.
"Do you want to tell me what happened there?"
I don't know.
"Really? Because it's right in front of your nose."
Someone I love was sent up to her room to think about her answer. The thing that my kids might as well learn young is: I notice everything. After today, that lesson will be remembered for a while again, at least. There is no hiding from me a visible truth, even an artfully layered one.
Later, upstairs, after some retractions and confessions and tearful apologies, I held L in her bed as she calmed. She'd asked for the snuggles and I told her that I will always have snuggles. But I told her how I'm rather short, as adults go, and she's tracking to be rather tall, and there may come a day where she might have to hold me in these snuggles. Finally, she laughed again, a quiet laugh I was glad to hear. At least her hair wouldn't be in my face.
You guys,
she did it again. She gave herself another haircut.