It was a bright sunny lovely warmer-than-the-20-degree-weather-we-had-been-having Saturday morning. I'm sitting on the couch at a friend's house, at a playdate with the kids from their "old school", and I notice something odd about Justine's hair. Namely, that there is a quite obvious bald spot right on top of her head. I call her over, and sure enough, it was not an optical illusion. So of course, I start thinking hideous autoimmune disorders that eat up your hair, and imagine Justine in 3rd grade with a lovely Barbie-style wig... until it occurs to me to start with perhaps a more simple explanation. "Justine, honey, did someone cut your hair??" Giggling. More giggling. "Um, Jenna cut it!" We all take turns rubbing the hair near the bald spot, which is just short of 1/12 of an inch and looks like stubble on a monk's head. She bolts off to play with her friends. As I fixate on the bald spot every time the sun hits her hair, I notice that she is missing a thick lock of hair on the side....
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Vasco in the shower last week: "Mommy, I want to be a dolphin!"
Me: "But, honey, you can learn to swim like a dolphin, but you can't be one"
V: "But why?"
Me: "Because you are a little boy!"
V: "But I want to be a dolphin"
Me: "If you were a dolphin, you would have to live in the water, and you couldn't live with us!"
V: "But you have Justine!!!"
Luckily, this week he wants to be a frog.
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