Hair

The other night after books and lights out, Parker and I were whispering together about what we might do over the weekend, and I suggested that we might get him a haircut.

He said, "No, I don't need a haircut, because I want to have very much hair like the girls where you can connect it." (A ponytail.) "I am going to be four years old, and I'm going to have lotta hair."

Since this seemed like a reasonable plan to me, I didn't answer, and we lay there for a long time in a sort of dreamy, sleepy state. We were on our sides facing each other, and we stared at each other in silence as the seconds and minutes ticked away.

And then Parker reached his hand up to the top of my head and said sadly, "You don't have very much hair, daddy."