I slaved and battled for the computer with my four-year-old (Let me play the game!!) so I could see the instructions and ended up with this.
I'm so proud.
Then, in a feeling of dear reciprocation she started combing my straightened hair (the only time I'll allow anyone to touch my hair).
S said, "Oh mom I love your beautiful blonde hair. You could grow it a little more and then make it into a beautiful wig." Then a moment later she added, "You'd be bald then and that wouldn't be very good."
A second later, "It feels like soft hay." For the record, I'm not sure she remembers what soft hay feels like--there is not much hay in Brooklyn and much less soft hay--so let's just say my hair feels like healthy hair.
I love my little fairy princess.
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