I looked at her and noticed how the sunset through the clearing rain clouds was making everything look like it had a glow. I told Boo boo that it looked golden and she said,
I feel golden!
I have a belief that my dear Boo Boo La La is, at her core, permafrost.
I will list the evidence:
1. She was born in January.
2. This morning I asked her to put on the preselected shirt and shorts at 7:16 am.
3. At 7:23 am she was only partially undressed and took a potty break.
4. At 7:28 am when I went downstairs, she was still getting dressed.
5. It was a TSHIRT AND SHORTS!
It is the only explanation for her glacial pace.
I dread the morning.
Not so much the morning itself. but the time we finally have to get dressed and ready.
The hair-raising hair brushing time.
My poor baby Boo boo La la got my fine follicles. The kind that tangle when a butterfly flits past.
I used to have to brush it. Now that she's older it is a job I leave in her own little hands. And there maybe are no more breathless sobs, 'You're ki-ling--me-I-can-not-breathe-ah!' , but it still sucks.
She's tried countless brushes. sprays,detangling poos and rinses. None of them 'work' forever. She eventually stares into the mirror saying how she hates this or that. And her hair.
She has beautiful hair.
This morning, it was the worst. She told me that people say that her hair feels fake (?) and that recently a lady had asked her if she '...ever brushed her hair.'
Could people be more rude?
Don't answer that.
I told her that she should ignore them. They are rude and CRAZY. But, I know that it can hurt.
Just like the brushing.
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