Arm Hair per Gunnar
Gunnar goes to bed well for Steve and others, but with me he has figured out great stall techniques including needing socks, can’t find his blanket, fallingout of bed, needing to be covered; and the only one that’s really hard to resist, calling my name in his voice that touches my deepest mommy heart strings.
A few nights ago, Gunnar was putting me to the test at bed time. Steve was gone or he would have put a stop to the madness quickly. I really can’t remember the litany of needs, comments, and questions that occurred that night, but I was mad. Finally, I went in his room, flipped on the light, sat down on the floor next to his bed and looked pointedly into his dark blue eyes. I was giving him some serious instruction. You know the kind where your voice is really low and really serious and full of “this is it. you might want to make some different choices.” That kind of voice.
Gunnar interupted me, “Mommy! You don’t have any hair on your arms!” as if something was terribly wrong and alarming. I assured him it was ok and that was the way God made me.
Now, back to my threat. Uh, I mean my instructions.
“Daddy has hair on his arms. I have hair on mine. See?” “Yes. I see. Gunnar, you must go to sleep and…”
“You don’t have any hair growing out of your bones?”
“Nope. No, I sure don’t.” Pause. Pause. Surely, I can collect myself to finish my lecture and leave.
Can’d do it. Next thing I know, I am falling on the floor laughing and can’t stop. Gunnar starts giggling and giving me sweet sheepish smiles that I really can’t resist. I finally collect myself from the floor, and decide it’s over and best I just leave his room.
Gunnar stayed in his bed and didn’t make another peep.
The moral of the story? I have no idea. But, the idea of hair growing from my bones still makes me giggle.