Girls have so very many moods and personalities, which come and go faster than SnapChat photos. Yep, they’re like a box of chocolates, You never know wh… (I know, I just referenced Sybil, Forest Gump, and Snapchat – that’s a vast range of pop culture knowledge… we Gen Xers are impressive like that.)
Moving on… today, I got a haircut. Ry (my little girl, who is 9) got in the car and simply said, “hair cut.” In a robotic, I see you got one, so I’m making an effort, but this conversation shall go no further, because I’m pretty much a teenager already, kinda way.
Me: Human child. (I said, pointing out the obvious, in kind.)
She picked up her iTouch and disengaged. She’s too cool for this talk, and her roller coaster on Minecraft awaits.
Me: What, you don’t like it?
Ry: Nope, I hate it. *looks back at iTouch*
Me: I always tell you not to say mean stuff.
Ry: Yeah, you tell me if I don’t have something nice to say, not to say anything at all, which is what I was trying to do. (There was no, “duh” at the end, but it was implied.)
Touche.
Me: For your information, my hair hates you too. (I said, in an effort to have a conversation with one of the other personalities in my little “Sybil,” which they all turn into somewhere around 3 years old.)
Ry: Whatever.
Then I made a crying sound. (Oh, I do not relent.)
Ry: Really Mom?
Me: It’s not me … it’s Hair. You don’t care that Hair is sad? Well, my hair will never talk to you again.
Ry: K (She said, in the way I imagine Miley talked to Billy Ray when he would threaten to take away her allowance if she didn’t clean your room. Actually, that conversation may have been the other way around, but you get the point.)
Me: What? What did you say?
Ry: Nothing momm…
Me: Shhhh shhh, I can’t hear Hair, she’s whispering… No, I don’t know what happens when a curling iron, a flat iron, and a crimping iron walk into a blowdry bar??? *pause … then huge laughter and knee slapping*
Ry: (laughing just a little) Stop Mom, you’re so weird.
She’s cracking.
Me: You’re right Hair, that was the funniest joke I’ve ever heard. *laughter laughter*
Ry: Mom?
Me: Are you serious Hair? Did they arrest her?
Ry: Mom?
Me: Yeah, I know a bail bondsman.
Ry: Mom, please stop.
NEVER… I’m on a roll, plus this is the most interesting conversation I’ve had all day.
Me: Who said, ‘please stop’? Oh Ry, you’re still in the car? I totally forgot, I was so enthralled by Hair… She’s hilarious. *pause* I’m sorry, “hair-larious.” Hair just told me to say that.
Ry: That was so corny.
Me: Hair, knows. She says, she was being ironic by saying something corny because you will never get to see the true depth of her humor.
Ry: Mom, you’re ruining my brain.
(She really said that.)
Me: Fine, no more hair talk.
Ry: No, keep doing it… What is Hair saying now?
Yep, raising a girl can be tough. Sometimes you have to pull the person you want to hang with out of them, yourself — and have an iron will while trying, because it can take time, effort, creativity and the ability to do impressions and accents.
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