As I was concentrating on writing a document this afternoon, my youngest ran into my studio with a "Ta Da!", backed up by his Big Brother. His head and face were covered with magic transparent tape, in a helmet shape, reminiscent of the Viking helmets we studied last year.
Nonplussed, I said, "That wasn't a good idea. It's going to hurt coming off. At least you didn't use duct tape - it takes skin off."
They went into the kitchen and Big Brother found a pair of scissors. I turned around to see my little Sampson bending over for his sacrificial haircut, the long brown tresses he has been nurturing for the past year, even through many accusations of being Ben's sister. "If you need any help, let me know", I said.
Tanner appeared minutes later with his new terraced haircut. It happens to all of us, I thought to myself. Our mettle is tested only by how gracefully we endure the outgrowth phase.
And then I realized that I had lived through the burnishing of motherhood. I have lived with an adult male with ADD and raised two boys. You can't scare me.
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