It’s never a good sign when you hear a blood curdling scream coming from the bathroom. It’s even worse when there’s actual blood to accompany that scream. The scream came from Olivia, and the blood came from a cut above her upper lip. She somehow cut herself while taking a shower, and her explanation didn’t add up. Olivia claimed she had found something on the shower floor, and when she went to take a closer look, she cut herself. Luckily, it was a pretty small cut and the bleeding stopped by simply applying a little pressure to it.
Now neither Van nor I really believed her story, but in the interest of calming her down, I decided not to interrogate her, at least not yet. That came a few days later. She cracked after a just a few questions and admitted she wanted to try out Dad’s razor. Trying out a razor didn’t surprise me. Trying it out on her upper lip did. I explained to her when she’s ready to start shaving, she’s going to want to shave her legs, not her upper lip. The last thing she’s going to want to have to explain to her 2nd grade friends is why she has peach fuzz stubble.
I’m sure this is just one of many, many, many heart to heart talks I’m going to be having with the girls. However, I thought I would have a little more time. Apparently not. I know this is just the tip of the iceberg. First I’m talking about shaving, next I’ll be talking about bras and periods. Oy. I don’t know what’s going to be worse, potty training or puberty. I have a sinking feeling that puberty is going to be worse. Much worse. Potty training lasts what a year, maybe a year-and-a-half tops? Puberty lasts years. With three girls, I’ll be dealing with puberty for nearly a decade. No wonder I’m already going seriously gray.
I think for now Olivia has learned her lesson, and won’t try shaving her face or legs anytime soon, at least that’s what I’m hoping.