Flea at One Good Thing has a post today about the unconditional (almost) love our kids give us.
It reminded me of the first time I got my hair cut after Monkey was born.
I lucked out in the hair lottery. Although I had to suffer through my childhood years getting called Carrot Top and even Tomato Head (after my mother put an ill-advised green bow in my hair for St. Patrick's Day one year), my orange hair darkened into a lovely red color as I got older. My hair is wavy, and it looks good even when I wake up in the morning. It also grows very fast.
My hair wasn't very long when I had Monkey, and I was so busy with her that I didn't bother to get it cut. For 2 years. One day, I was at work, and my hair was driving me nuts, so I went to the salon on my lunch hour and had them chop it, to about chin length. When I picked Monkey up from my sister's house after work, she took one look at me and burst into tears.
Kids really don't want their moms to change.
Finslippy has a great story up about her son finding his Special Purpose.
There are not a lot of boys in my family, so I don't have a lot of penis stories, but I do have one about my nephew, Dennis the Menace*. He was getting to be a real lazy porker of a kid, so my sister decided he had to start doing some sports. They tried baseball, but he was bored; they tried soccer, but he would just stand there looking at dandelions; but eventually they found 2 sports he enjoyed: football and wrestling. Football is great because it's a physical activity that helps him release some of his aggression, and wrestling is great because it's one on one, and he's not the best team player.
One day at a scrimmage, he was wrestling against a girl. The gym was crowded that day, my friends, and my sister was sitting with the other moms when DtM suddenly stopped and shouted out to my sister: "Mom! My penis moved all by itself!"
*Not his real name, but definitely his real personality