The Confessional

My grandson has a new attachment – his baseball cap. He looks adorable in it and doesn’t leave the house without it. During a recent visit I heard him yelling from the downstairs, “I can’t find it!”

“It’s by the dryer,” his mother called back.

“Whats he looking for?” I asked.

“His hat,” mom replied.

“I’ll go help him,” I said as I headed for the stairs.

As I opened the door I saw this four-year old standing in front of the dryer with his arms spread out. “I can’t find it,” he said. I pointed to the brown brim that was peeking out from a pile of clothes. Liam picked it up and put it on his head. I held the door open for him and he began to climb the stairs. “I wear my hat because I don’t like my haircut,” I heard him say.

Placing my hand on his shoulder I inquired, “Did you tell mom that?”

“No” he responded quietly.

“Oh honey, you can tell mom anything.” By now we were at the top of the stairs with mom in our view. I directed Liam toward her. When she saw Liam begin wiping his eyes and his bottom lip quiver, she quickly ended a phone call and gave us her complete attention. “Liam has been wearing his hat because he doesn’t like his haircut,” I repeated.

That was it, the flood gates burst open and Liam began to unload this great burden he had been carrying the past few weeks. The next morning – well before anyone else was awake –  he and I sat on the sofa watching TV. I looked at him and said, “Liam, I think your hair grew last night!”

His small hands reached to the top of his head and he began measuring his hair length. His smile was priceless as his eye lit up. “It did!” he said.

“See, it won’t be long until it’s all grown back,” I confirmed. I love being Liam’s confessional.

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