Harper turned 15 yesterday and most of you know that we named her after Harper Lee and then found out a few weeks later that she was actually born on Harper Lee’s birthday.
Meredith turned 17 today and most of you know that she shares a birthday with Amy Krouse Rosenthal, who was one of my very favorite people.
Most of you know that the girls would have shared a birthday if I had not eaten a White Castle fish sandwich on the way to the hospital to have Meredith. (I had to wait several hours after eating for them to perform the surgery, so she was born at 2:00 in the morning on the 29th.)
Anyway, kids and birthdays and Springsteen songs about Growin’ Up and seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers, blossoming even as we gaze.
That’s not why I’m here.
I’m HERE because everyone seems to be shaving their heads and I’m about two days away from jumping onto that very crowded wagon. (I have an appointment with my doctor tomorrow, and we’re going to talk about my meds. I don’t want a bald head to influence our dosage decisions.)
I’ve done my research, and I’ve purchased clippers for dog grooming, and I’m assuming dog clippers would also work as human clippers, and if I’m careful and I set the scene just right (Sinead O’Connor music in the background, photos of the Pope hanging on the bathroom wall, etc.) I’m pretty sure I can end up looking like this.
I have consulted with the woman who cuts my hair, and she said, “Whatever you end up doing, it’s just hair. It’ll grow back fast. It is best to do these things sober, but YOLO!” (I love her.)
Did I mention my meds will probably be switched up tomorrow?