Relax, it wasn't my Katie who did it. Whew, thank goodness for that, since I can imagine how she'd like to experiment with Mommy's hair. She is the child who took one look at me in a dress and high heels a couple months ago, brushed right past the novelty of Mommy in something other than worn out jeans and a ratty t-shirt, and loudly declared, "You're not wearing that dress AGAIN, are you?!" Nope, that's not the Katie who cut my hair.
This Katie is an all grown up version of a little girl who used to take my camera from me and snap tilted pictures that looked like a cross between Americana and the sloped t.v. Batman sets of the 1960's. That was when Katie was about 4 or 5 years old, and I was only in my early twenties. Let's see, now I'm 42. . .and she is 27 years old! I wish could remember where I stashed those snapshots, because now I'm suffering from a little case of nostalgia for all the nieces and nephews I used to have (and adore). Many of them were teens when their uncle and I divorced, and they had been a big part of my life since they were little kids. There are times when I run into one of them and feel sad for having missed out on watching them become young adults. (Plus, damn, it makes me feel older than I want to feel when someone I used to spoil is now big enough to have kids of their own!)
I am happy to report that Katie is still a sweetie and still funny and kind. She's still cute as a bug, just like when she was a little girl with long golden light brown waves of hair and a big smile. She still loves puppy dogs, and she told me about her furbabies. We reminisced a bit about her Grandpa and Sunday morning breakfasts with the family. Her Grandpa's cooking was strange but strangely good. . . and occasionally just a wee bit unorthodox for someone who was a doctor. Seems Doc never worried too much about the dishes from Sunday to Sunday. One Sunday morning, he came out to the farm to start cooking one of his breakfast concoctions. The only big skillet had been left outside for the assorted menagerie of puppydogs to lick clean at the end of breakfast the previous Sunday. Doc grabbed the skillet, took it inside, set it on the stove, and proceeded to start cooking. . .from what I remember, not too many people were hungry that Sunday, and from then on, someone always made sure to police the kitchen area before the gathering broke up for the day :)
Well, there was more catching up, and we even talked about her grandmother's hair (Dorothy has the most beautiful white hair, and it's been that way since before I met her twenty-some years ago). It was good to see this kid and the grownup person she has become. Besides that, Tease is such a cute hair and nail salon (that link is just to the phone number and map, but who knows when someone reading this might be here and be needing a haircut!).
And now, I must, must, must clean house and do a bit of torching. Seems my own Katie and her brother James are now ungrounded, and all their friends are coming over after school to play. Oh, and if you haven't heard the story of why the munchkins were grounded, don't worry, eventually you will. . .it's one of those "I had to try to keep a straight face while I was lecturing them" parent stories! Gotta run, see ya soon! Oh, and Happy Friday!