The week after Iain died I was trying to find fun little excursions for Gianna. I happened to pass the children's haircutting place by my folks' house and pulled in to trim up her hair. Fun little experience.
Last week, I went back again only to find out the would be closing their doors that very day. (That was a short run!) The sylist was a girl I knew years ago and Gianna chatted with her like she was a grown up. Here how the conversation went:
Gianna: And what is your name?
Gianna: Hi Ms. Michelle, I'm Gianna. I'm frwee.
Stylist: Hi Gianna, it's so nice to meet you.
Gianna: It's nice to meet you too. Do you have any little kids?
Stylist: I have two kids, they're teenagers.
Gianna: Oh. Do you have a house?
Stylist: Yes I do.
Gianna: Oh....well, would you like to show me a picture of your house?
Stylist: I don't have one with me. How old are you again?
Gianna: Frwee. And you should be careful with those scissors. Don't cut yourself!
The next week when I told her that I needed to get Ms. Michelle to give me a haircut, she laughed hysterically. I asked her what was so funny about that and she said, "Mommy, you can't fit in the firetruck!!!" Funny kid.