“Baby, stop eating your hair,” Rowan commanded.
“Baby, are you eating your hair?” I asked, without
bothering to turn around to see if she was actually eating her hair.
“No. The wind
keeps blowing it in my mouth,” the baby responded.
“Mommy, I think the baby needs a haircut- -“ Rowan began.
“Like a boy?!” the baby interrupted, outraged.
“No!” Rowan said emphatically.
“Oh, okay,” the baby answered calmly and appeased.
Look at Rowan reassuring her little sister.
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