Sometimes, in the Groundhog Day repetition that is parenting
with a toddler, when we do the same things over and over again and one day
blurs into the next, middle age comes creeping into my thoughts and I start to
wish I’d done more with my past. Be it travel, or work, or wishing I had a do-over for all the dumb mistakes of my youth, I don’t
have many regrets but every now and then I find myself wondering what I could have done differently.
But those thoughts are fleeting, and as it is, I find my
happiest moments are in or around my little house on my little patch of land in
my little town.
The other day I was in my backyard with Bella, my two year-old daughter. We’re playing in the pallet house and she wants to do my hair. Only there are rules in place and so I have to crawl out of the house and then return so that I can knock before coming in and make a proper entrance.
Oh, uh, right.
I do as I'm told. This time I knock and she welcomes me inside. There’s a toy sink with actual running water wedged into a corner. I’m instructed to sit against the wall. A siren wails in the distance, somewhere outside these magical walls, as she sets her hands in the water—probably filled with mosquito larvae and who knows what else—cupping them as she carries the water to my head and splashes my hair with it.
“Beautiful,” she murmurs, wiping down the sides of my face.
“Thank you,” I say, water dripping onto my shirt, kind of
looking around. She does this again, maybe four or five more times. Then uses a toy set of pliers to cut my hair. She's fully focused on her task and takes time and care to do the job right.
“Does it really look good?” I ask, as she drops the pliers and starts to clean up.
Bella looks up from the sink and regards me with big blue eyes.
A small nod. “Definitely.”
And that’s it. I don’t need to go anywhere. I’m good here, hunched
over in this make believe bug infested pallet shed hair salon, with this sweet
little stylist who hands our compliments like candy.
