A Rainbow Has Nothing to Hide

The other day Aaron harrumphs out of the bathroom and says, “That’s it. I’m cutting my hair. I look like Rod Blagojevich.”

And, perhaps, yes, his hair had gotten a bit feathery.

(That’s a special Blagojevich smile and shoulder exposure; I promised to be clear about that if this picture went posted.)

So, last night, Aaron sets the razor to 5 and goes a’ trimming.

I believe it was my observant sister who pointed out that, for some like Aaron, the seasons are best welcomed by hair cuts. The dead of winter was welcomed with a beard and now the snow melts away as Aaron’s beautiful brown feathers fall to our kitchen floor (he will probably wish I had not expressed it in those exact terms. But that’s okay: Hi, Honey–Look at me! I’m on the internet!).

Maybe the sleep deprivation is making us giddy, but it’s been fun around here lately. We used to have to play Rock-Paper-Scissors for every chore, which was fun in its own way since I figured out that all you need to do to win is say “rockpaperscissorsrockpaperscissors” repeatedly and play the one that crosses your mind when the other person says “okay” to start the next round. At first Aaron kept exclaiming in awe, “You triple crossed me again!” until I confessed my strategy and then we sat, silenced by our own determination not to be the one to say “okay.”

We have a rhythm now, and finally, there is enough space and time to act on Thich Naht Hanh’s imperative to be present–to, for instance, taste and not just eat dinner, to two-step Clara around the room to “The Rainbow Connection,”

to pet the dogs, and to read slowly the letters from Aaron’s grandparents about the return of spring to the Midwest.

Last night, for instance, we had tea and needed to choose between “Constant Comment–Decaffeinated” and “Chamomile Nights.” A bad joke was made about “Hot Chamomile Nights!” here in the Lohmeyer household; nothing like a hot tea with day-old sitcom episodes over a poor internet connection to make one feel 31 and contented by such small things as a perfectly-placed couch pillow and a coffee table for feet-propping.  But, it’s finally starting to feel like real house, rather than play house, with all sorts of colors and refracted light, like a rainbow that has nothing to hide.

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