A Dinglehopper

You've seen the scene in The Little Mermaid when Ariel takes her treasures up to Scuttle to have him explain what they are. Scuttle says the fork is a dinglehopper and humans use it for doing hair. Well I guess the girls must have been paying close attention last time they watched that movie because this is what they did last night:

 

Maycie with a brush and Haylee with a fork. Those puppies hurt!

 

 

Every time my girls play with my hair I can't help but be reminded of Aunt Connie. She was my Grandpa B's sister. I didn't know much about Connie when I was younger. I only knew I loved her like she was our Grandma. She was always at Grandma and Grandpa B's house. Connie would give us $1 every time she saw us. The money was never a reason to go visit. We loved spending time at Grandma and Grandpa's. If we were lucky Grandma B and Connie would take Liz, Laramie, Jerome, me and sometimes Dallas to Chuck E Cheese. Grandma would give us each money and if we ran out Connie would sneak us more. It wasn't very sneaky, we almost always got caught. Thinking back now, I know we never said enough thank yous or gave enough hugs but I sure hope she knew how much we loved her. Connie passed away from cancer when I was 16. I remember during one of her chemo and radiation rounds her hair started falling out. She would have clumps of it sitting on the end table next to her. Liz and I were talking to her one day about what it felt like when her hair fell out. When we asked if it hurt, she reached over to grab our hands and put them on her head and said "Of course it doesn't, here, pull some out!"  We sat there pulling as much of her hair out as we could. The whole time she was laughing and collecting handful after handful in her lap. I can only imagine what was going on in her mind at the time. I know it was not on purpose but she left me with one of the happiest, sad-time memories I have. It was a sad time but I can still hear her laughing. I can hear Grandma B, from the kitchen, telling us to stop. After a minute or two of Connie telling her it was okay, with Liz and I standing behind the big lazy-boy giggling, there was a long, very silent pause then the four of us all started laughing. So now, every time I have two little girls standing behind me, giggling and pulling my hair I can't help but smile and be reminded of how lucky I was to have an Aunt Connie in my life.