As I was putting Yessa to bed last night, we had the following conversation:
Noa said, “Mom, Dad rubbed manure in my hair.”“What?” I laughed incredulously.
“Dad, rubbed manure in my hair.”
“Oh, he must have just been joking. He didn’t rub manure in your hair.” I reassured her.
A minute passed with both of us in total silence.
“Mom, it wasn’t manure. It was that soap.”
“You mean lavender?”
“Yes, lavender!” She responded with surety.
“Yes, he rubbed lavender in my hair.” This was said with calm assurance as she dropped off to sleep.