My daughter just came up to me and told me she wanted to tell me a secret. She bent down to my ear and whispered ¨Don’t tell anyone that I am watching Diego! Don’t tell my brothers!¨ She has been watching either Dora or Diego for a month, when she does watch anything. I know I shouldn’t tell you, but I am hoping she will forgive the technicality of writing versus speaking.
Most of the time this week she pretends to be a poisonous humpback whale and lays on the floor making whale noises so that I can pretend to put on gloves and ¨rescue΅ her.
I took my middle son to get a haircut today, he had refused last week when his brother got his, because he had a sore bump on his head from a hide and seek closet accident. The stylists have been after my daughter for nearly a year, to let them cut her hair, since I gave her an inverted bob when she twisted soap and syrup into her hair and nothing got it out. The stylists said I did a good job, but that sort of thing needs shaping assistance as it grows out. So the stylist tried again. She had cropped pink hair and a lip ring, dark eyeliner, a lovely girl, and she leaned down and asked my daughter nicely if she could trim her hair. My daughter refused. The stylist pulled out some little flower plastic barrettes and told her she would get some if she got a haircut. My daughter said okay. The stylist did not believe it and asked again, and Daughter started walking to the chair. The stylist was so excited, she never thought it would happen, and she hadn’t even readied her chair. Far more excited than my little girl, who waited patiently for the chair to be readied and lowered and chose a cape. She sat quietly the entire trim, looking in the mirror. Like she had been doing it all her life. She got three barrettes. One on top and one on each side above the ear. White and blue and yellow.
So I have one child who screams through their haircut and two who sit quietly.
She informs me that her Diego movie does not play (she never pushes the discs down properly), and is waiting for me to fix it. She waits by reading me a book, from just behind me, which is a murder mystery novel, held upside down. She is reading aloud about Diego and mud and dinosaurs. Book over, she practices her howler monkey impression.
I love her. I love them all so much. She is always telling stories, or pretending.