She likes me. Maybe. (Day 116, Year 3)

Yesterday, my middle daughter, after having a 30 minute breakdown over her clothing, dance clothes and life, came to me and said, 

"I have a question for you, since you are the hair guru."

Then, today, I asked that the same daughter, who had a repeat performance of her 30 minute breakdown over her clothing, dance clothes and life, if she noticed anything different with my hair and she said:

"No. It just looks fabulous as always."

FRIENDS I THINK SHE LIKES ME. Well, she likes my hair. 

When I tell you that prior to these two ridiculous interactions I assumed my daughter thought very poorly of me. After all, she is often known to give me the "up-down" and then sneer while making direct eye contact. If I ask what she is sneering at, she will tell me and I will be insecure for months, maybe years. 

My middle is not a charmer, let me tell you. She relies on honesty and bullying to make it in this world. 

Anyway, yesterday, she asked me how her hair could be less poufy and out of control after she washed it. I told her to blow dry it, dry shampoo and touch up with the blow dryer and leave in conditioner  the next morning if poufy!  I also offered I blow dry it for her, so we could have girl time!  She declined my direct assistance, but friends, I heard the blow dryer last night! She took my advice. 

If you don't have a teenage girl, you have no idea how incredible and miraculous that blow dryer sound was--like church bells or that tinkling sound you hear when an angels gets their wings or whatever. 

My daughters rarely take my direct advice; unless it involves how to get out of homework or how to beg a teacher for extra credit or how to explain to attendance office why they are late. Most of the time, they do the exact opposite of what I said or they do nothing at all and just text me asking for things like cash, snacks and whatever while they are supposed to be in class learning things. 

So that blow dryer--that was a sign that maybe I was influencing my daughters to at least care for their hair and maybe, they do listen, once in while! I don't know why I want them to like me so much; maybe it is because they used to really like me and now they've abused me so much as teenagers that I have some sort of psychological syndrome. But, whatever it is, I think maybe, someday, they will even APPRECIATE ME. 

I cannot even believe I wrote that! 

Chloe declined to be photographed for my blog; so I might be getting ahead of myself. 


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