Claire went to a friend's house to play today. Before she went, she asked me whether her friend's dad was going to be there. (Gulp, thinking the worst.) I told her I didn't know whether he would be home or not. (What did he do? My poor baby.) She said she really hoped not. (Oh please, no, this can't be happening. I will kill that badwording badword if he put a hand on her. NO!) I managed to croak out a why, and dreaded her response. (pleasenopleasenoIwillkillhimpleaseno)
Her answer: I don't like the shape of his hair.
Come to think of it, I don't really like the shape of his hair either. But not enough to kill over.
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3 comments:
MY poor baby!
This is a fear that I am hoping to never have, but being the mother of a girl I think it is inevitable. I will pray for a shape of his hair comment.
hair shape is important. I grew up in the 70s and 80s. I know this is a very real annoyance
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