The soft purple light of six am fills the house. I am asleep.
A small vibrant voice reaches into my dreams and pulls me awake with a song.
Loud singing is emanating from my youngest daughter’s bedroom.
“I wish I could be a buttercup! I wish I could be a buttercup! I wish I could be a buttercup! And so as you!”
She has made up a song.
I drag myself out of bed and walk towards her room; listening intently. Smiling. When I open her door, she changes her tune.
She sings even louder, “I WISH I COULD BE A BUTTERFLY! I WISH I COULD BE A BUTTERFLY! I WISH I COULD BE A BUTTERFLY! AND SO AS YOU!”
Mia is excited. This week at camp, she’s already had pajama day and character day. Backwards day is coming up on Friday.
But today is her favorite. It’s crazy hair day.
She has been waiting for this day for weeks.
Today, she gets to have hair chalk. Temporary hair color combined with a silly hair style.
I ordered Edge Chalkers. The box says the color lasts up to three days.
Metallic glitter hair chalk in a rainbow of color choices. “Great for Mohawks!” is advertised on the back.
I don’t dare say anything about a Mohawk, she’d want one.
I tell her she can pick a couple of colors. She carefully inspects each one.
Gold Glam, Silver Shimmer, Hot Pink, Purple Punk Rock, Blue Turquoise Of The Sea, and Green Snake Skin beckon her.
Mia says, “I want all of the them!!!”
I indulge her.
She selects Hot Pink first. I part her hair and begin to color. It’s easy, like coloring with a marker. I carefully work through her hair, as she hands me color after color. For each color, she wants a braid.
Mia’s hair is impossibly blond from the summer sun, so the colors show up brightly. Almost neon in intensity.
She looks like she was kissed by a rainbow.
I finish and she runs to gaze at my creation in the bathroom mirror.
She is thrilled. Excited to show her teachers and friends at school.
Despite my shortcomings in hair styling, Mia is so proud of her “do” for crazy hair day.
When I drop her off at camp, everyone loves her hair. She beams.
As I shut the door to her classroom, I am inspired. I begin to sing softly, “I wish I could be a buttercup, I wish I could be a buttercup, and so as you!”
I’ve attached the audio of Mia singing this morning; it was too dark for video.