Picture this:
Anne is cutting my hair; I'm reading the jokes from Reader's Digest out loud.
My back is to the mirror and light.
She is cutting away and then blurts out, "!!!!! I can fix it! I can fix it!"
Glad I don't really care too much about my hair.
Next, she's complaining 'cause I can't hold still for laughing.
All is well; she fixed whatever "it" was.
Has she ever cut anyone's hair before mine?
No. Only her own.
I didn't think to ask that question before we started.
It doesn't matter. My hair is cut, looks fine, and I'm happy.
Love you, kiddo; thanks for the laughter and the memory.
