This morning we slept in a little bit, ate some breakfast and got ready to go to the Y to swim a little. The girls always love these days because they get to hang out, meet new friends at the pool and "do" mom's hair. This involves finding a bucket of some size - anywhere from a cup to a gallon - and take turns pouring water over my head. If they get hold of one of the smaller containers in the YMCA's toy bucket, it is fine but if they end up with one of the larger ones I am sure to be beaten about the head (because they can't control a loaded down gallon bucket of water) and half drown (because the water ends up going in my face instead on top of my head).
As I grew up with two younger brothers I don't recall having the fixation on hair styling. Possibly because my brothers never really had much hair for me to style and my mother would never have let me touch her hair. I DO recall many hours of playing Batman (the cheesy 60's Adam West version) or Wonder Woman. We raced around the backyard and vaulted on and off the propane tank which was either the Batmobile or the invisible airplane depending upon who we were emulating. As we got older and more sophisticated we would play things like The Boxcar Children, Tom Sawyer, or Huck Finn and disappear through the culvert up the road and pretend that was our own little world.
If I got hurt (and I'm sure my memory is imperfect here) my mom would squirt some Bactine on the injury and send me on my way. I don't recall a lot of wailing or cuddling after an accident.
I watch these girls and they can play "Mommy" for hours trading the mommy and auntie roles back and forth. They scrape their knee in the driveway and obsess over it for days until you can't see it anymore - and even then they still often want a band-aid for it. I need to understand these little souls before they are beyond my understanding - teenagers.
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