About two weeks ago, it was Red Ribbon Week in the school district where I live. Each day of the week, there was a theme. One of those days was "dress up like the profession you want to be when you grow up". My Eldest chose college professor, teaching a very specialized subject of Cherokee Indian language.
She wore a short-sleeved, dark gray sweater-dress that had a cowl neck. Around her waist was a thick elastic black belt, and she wore some mary-jane style shoes.
Later that night, I was informed that some kids "mentioned" to her that she has hairy legs. She was embarrassed. She was embarrassed enough to prompt her to ask me to teach her how to shave her legs.
Heaven help me (and you!), My Eldest - which I'll refer to as Boa on occasion - is coming of age. She's trekking into that fabulously maddening journey into puberty. Someone please make it stop!! *sob*
This morning, I taught Boa how to shave her legs.
*cringe*
She can't be ready for this! Right? Hell...*I* am not ready for this!!
Boa & I sat on the edge of the tub, just us "women", accompanied by a pink disposable razor, a can of shaving cream, a running faucet, a towel and our brave faces.
I've never taught anyone to shave before. I didn't think of the bony ankles, the curves of the joint areas. Therefore, I didn't warn her about the difficulty of shaving around the outer ankle bone.
"Have you ever nicked yourself while shaving, Mommy?" (I love that she called me 'mommy'!! A sign of her childhood still with me -- that little girl sitting next to me!)
"Yep. I have. Lots. You will, too."
And then it happened.
In an instant, I see her beautiful light brown eyes fill with fear, pain, tears as she experienced her first nick -- on the ankle bone.
I felt awful!
She fought tears and immediately said, "I'm never shaving there!! Never, evaaarrrrrr!"
Furry ankles it will be.
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