He asked me, so I told him.

I've had an ache in my chest all day. I keep crying about Brandan's hair. To hide it, I've been keeping busy. He caught me staring at him though. Twice. Oops. He asked me, "WHAT?" both times. A shake of the head is all he got from me as I busied myself again.

Here I was, on my Blogger dashboard (home page), and nosey little I-have-to-know-everything-Brandan comes to sit in my lap and play 20 questions. So I showed him my blog and told him it's all about him. I am aware that I have a picture of him bald on here. (2 posts down) But I have that same picture on the wall in my house. Brandan sees it everyday. He asked me to make it bigger. He always does that with pictures on the computer. But right on cue for the day, he asked (drumroll please!)........ "What happened to my hair?" I scrolled the picture down and he was distracted by the image of the teddy bear and his bare feet long enough for me to make a snap decision to go ahead and have THE TALK with him.

I told him the truth. His hair fell out. What was I supposed to say? How do you sugar-coat that, ya know? I involuntarily started rubbing his hair back when I talked about it. I put my finger on the bald spots while I explained to him why I've been putting cream on them. My silly Brandan. Of course. He pulled his bangs straight in front of his face and said, "My hair might come out? Good. Then it won't go crazy and tickle my face." I asked him, "So, you don't want your hair?" (It's okay, I forfeited my mother-of-the-year nom a long time ago.) He's too little to talk like this; "I don't know", he said. "We'll see." Then he wanted to know why the hair in the picture is black. I explained to him about how we shaved those little spots and we might have to do it again. He just shrugged his shoulders. That's all!

I'm leaving small parts of the convo out to keep them between me and him. But, yeah. He knows and he doesn't seem to care. I had a feeling that my superhero would end up saying somethng to make me feel a little better.