Brooke hates to shower and I'm not in love with blow drying my hair or anyone else's. Sometimes she says, "If I shower, will you blow dry my hair?" More often than not I say, "Sure."
So, while blow drying her hair she was looking at the perfumes on my vanity. "Which one's your favorite Mommy?" "Oh, probably Flower Bomb." "Oh." "Do you wanna squirt?" "No thanks. Is it expensive?" "Yes." "Can I have the bottle when it's gone? I like how it looks like a grenade." "Sure, you can have the bottle when it's gone."
She picked up my tweezers. "Mom?" "Yes?" "Will you pluck my eyebrows?" "No sweetie, you're too young and you're beautiful. You don't need to pluck your eyebrows." "They look like Justin Biebers." (Has anyone ever really seen that kid's eyebrows under all that hair?) "Who told you your eyebrows look like Justin Biebers?" "No one. They just do." "No. No eyebrow plucking today."
I walk with a good friend that makes me laugh. This was how our conversation was this morning:
"I think I scared Conner the other day." "Oh good. What did you do?" "Well, he was forming a snowball and was going to throw it at my car. I stopped and yelled- If you throw that I will tell your mom. I will tell your dad. I will tell the Bishop!" "What did he do then?" "He looked at me, finished forming the snowball, smiled, and threw the snowball right at my car! I just imagined his father doing that at that age, and he turned out ok."
For some reason we laughed until we cried.
For some reason we laughed until we cried.
