Today I threw away a pair of C.T.'s socks because I cut his hair on Saturday.
In my "family of origin" certain physical attributes are kind of legendary. One of which is my mother's hair, which she refers to as "horse hair". It is incredibly thick hair - both in the sense that there is a lot of it and also that each strand individually is thick. C.T. has inherited this type of hair. When he was a little kid Tyler cut his hair, but as time has gone one and Tyler is less and less available when it comes to the routines of child care, I have become the one to cut boys' hair.
I didn't have C.T. remove his socks, and by the end of the hair cut they looked like they were a part of an old gorilla costume. The thought of throwing them in the wash and getting that dark hair all over the washing machine and whatever else I put in there with them suddenly seemed too overwhelming, so I threw them away. And I haven't had one regret - except maybe wishing that they were an older pair of socks.
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