Wednesday, August 29, 2012

small things {lucky}




small things #65 ... lucky

Sitting on the step I can feel the crisp air from the swamp cooler on the nape of my neck.  Norah sits between my knees on the bottom step.  I ask her to hold still while I comb out her hair.  Baby S is toddling around the living room:  a rattle in one hand and a Matchbox car in the other.  Both are equally delicious, it appears.  Beside me on the step, Lydia holds the hairbrush and the little cup of rubber bands.  Ashley sits behind me and plays with my hair.

Pinched between my left ear and shoulder I hold the phone and try to have a conversation.

I comb out a little rat's nest and Norah winces. 

"Hold still, please," I whisper, interrupting the caller on the line.  Gratefully my friend knows that this isn't the best time to call and she's prepared to be interrupted.  She continues with her train of thought.

I hold the comb between my teeth and wrestle with an unruly ponytail and a too-small rubber band.  The phone almost slips out of it's place in the crook of my neck, but I catch it with my hand.  "Sorry.  What was that last bit?"

I move on to the next ponytail and spot Baby S with a magazine in one hand.  One corner is a bit soggy.  I motion her to come to me and she smiles and sprints away.  I whisper to Lydia, "Can you get that from her?  Give her a board book instead."

I return my attention to the caller and the second ponytail.  The caller chats on and the pony tail is being difficult.  But there's more.  Ashley and Lydia have decided to do my hair, too.  Now I wince as Ashley tugs on the rubber band in my hair.  I try to hold my head still as they comb, brush and twist.  In the midst of my one-sided conversation I hear giggles and whispers as my hairdressers braid and band my hair.

I finish Norah's ponytails and give them each a quick brushing.  "You're done," I whisper, "get a quick snack before we leave for gymnastics."  The girls behind be continue to clip and comb my curls.  A brief fight breaks out over a butterfly barrette, but one silent and stern look from me nips it in the bud. 

My phone call is close to wrapping up and a good thing, too, as it's almost time for us to head to Kidzplex.  As my friend takes a breath, I take the opportunity to describe to my current situation ... doing hair, having hair done and wrangling a toddler all in a four foot radius.  She laughs and says, "My, aren't you lucky?"

"Well ... that wasn't the first word that came to my mind," I retort.  

As I hang up the phone, I turn to look at my girls behind me.  They are all smiles. 
Norah cartwheels into the living room with a granola bar in one hand and smiles.  
Baby S cruises past me, headed to the kitchen and the promise of a snack, smiling broadly.

Well ... I guess she's right after all.

Lucky ... it all depends on our perspective.

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