Friday, August 04, 2006

Bosom Friends and Remembrances

My youngest daughter, now 9, has always been the one to challenge. The one voted most likely to break a limb at any moment. The one guaranteed to face the terrifying aspects of a child’s world like bees, sirens, our steep driveway (perfect for racing down on her scooter), and math with nary a flinch. Among many other things, at 3, she was a demon with scissors. Having seen what she was capable of with her sister’s Barbies and her own stuffed animals, we kept a careful eye on the numerous pairs of scissors lying around the house (not to mention eternal, watchful vigilance over the cat and dog's coats). She eluded us though on one particular occasion and, having tired of giving Barbie and her pals new ‘dos, she turned her sights to her own coiffure. Fortunately, we’d learned a lot by the time she was 3 and found her quickly enough to keep her from looking like Demi Moore in “G.I. Jane”.

I breathed a sigh of relief once that stage was passed. I figured that, while I’m sure many challenges faced us in the future with this one, another attempt at her own version of “Outrageous Makeover – Hair Edition” wouldn’t be one of them. I was mistaken. A few days ago, I was called in a hushed voice by my daughter’s young friend to my daughter’s bedroom. There I found a sobbing and inconsolable child curled in the fetal position on the bed. As I didn’t see limbs askew or blood, I wasn’t terribly worried, but it was obvious that something was wrong. After much gentle coaxing, I finally got the story. Although, really, once she sat up and looked at me, the reason for the tears was clear. A large, 3-4” section of hair was missing from her blonde locks. Right. From. The. Front. I was completely flummoxed. What on earth could have possessed this child (at 9 for goodness sake!) to cut her hair? The answer was simple – at least to her. One of her childhood storybook heroes is Anne Shirley, the plucky heroine of the “Anne of Green Gables” novels. In a moment of tenderness and generosity, she wanted to give her own bosom friend a lock of her hair just as Anne once snipped a lock of Diana’s hair. Once said lock was cut from the front however, they both panicked and attempted to rectify the horror by beginning to “even up” the rest of the hair. I’m sure that’s adequate enough of a visual that I needn’t say more.

I quake with fear for the future.

I’m getting too old for this.

1 comment:

Kristin said...

Oh my gosh, I'm laughing so hard I can barely type! I want to see a picture--better yet, the girl in person :) She's such a dear child. It surprises me not in the least that she should take so seriously the idea of bosom friends.

What, oh what do you have to look forward to in the next 10 years?! I can say that with all assurance that in the end she will be a strong, independent and completely interesting woman :)