Jack still thinks my hair falling out is way cool. Until now he’s grabbed little bits from the back or sides, but this time he grabbed my longest locks and gave them a big ol’ tug. He promptly smoothed out the handful of hair and fashioned himself a new mustache. Because what else is an eight-year-old boy going to do with a handful of his mother’s hair?
Ew. If you can think of something else, I don’t think I want to know.
I love your amazing sense of humor almost as much as I love you.
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I want a mustache, too. Oh, wait. I think I already have one. Jen? If and when I am faced with the same challenges in life, I want to be as grown-up as you. YOU ROCK. I love you. To pieces. And even hairless. I won't have to worry about messing up your hair when I hug you. xoxo
ReplyDeleteYou are pretty much a rock star around our house, lady, with your amazing 'tude. I think I'd be all "you grab my hair, I'll grab yours," but things often devolve like that around here. You might need to come up here and give me grown-up lessons.
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You really are incredible. He really is adorable. :)
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