Heading For Trouble

March 2025

You may or may not have noticed that I have been quiet on the Elisa-front lately. This was partly because, what with having had her spend a week with us, I had no time to spare. Another reason was that, thanks to my negligence, the poor darling got a chunk of her hair caught in and pulled out by my electric whisk. Before I continue, I assure you she is fine!

I unplugged the whisk and carefully disentangled the chunk of hair from its grip. Unfortunately, it had been tugged out of Elisa’s scalp, leaving a noticeable bald patch. Luckily the skin was not grazed, and Elisa has an abundance of long hair so it can be swept across, thus ensuring she looks as fetching as ever.

I gave us both some Rescue Remedy and we retired to the sofa where I cuddled and soothed her. I was wondering how to tell her parents when my phone announced their nightly video call, so that dilemma was solved. They took it amazingly well. Elisa was still tearful and couldn’t talk, so they suggested we call back when she had calmed down.

After our second call, Elisa’s dad phoned again.

“YOU again! What do you want, now?”, was her response.

Dad was taken aback, but at least it was clear she was doing better.

That night I could hardly sleep. Elisa slept well. Alivia (my cat) came and lay down next to her for a long while.

In the morning, Elisa said to me:

“Anne-Cleeear, I don’t feel so scared any more when I see my hair. I already feel much better!”.

Bless her. This child is so empathetic. Having just woken up, she had not yet seen herself in the mirror. I felt she was trying to comfort me. I didn’t want to put that pressure on her, so I resolved to hide my feelings of dismay and guilt from her.

I nipped down to the kitchen where Willi was making Elisa’s Nutella bread for breakfast. I couldn’t contain my tears. The poor man cannot deal with outbursts of emotion (he picked the wrong gal to shack up with, there) but did his best to calm me. I felt obliged to get my act together for his sake, if not mine.

Elisa was worried that her friends at kindergarten would laugh at her. I reassured her that they probably wouldn’t, but decided to keep her at home for the day. It had been a huge shock and I felt she needed some recovery time, even if she felt better. I suggested we go to the local wild animal park. Well, not that wild. A few deer, goats, monkeys and some birds. Still, the sun was shining, the sky was blue, and we had a lovely day. Elisa was happy, skipping along joyfully. I had tied her hair into two bunches adorned with red ribbons, and brushed some remaining strands over to cover the bald patch.

That evening, I spouted some wisdom to her which I had recently read in one of my wise books. I told her that when something bad happens to us, we can either cry about it (be a victim – but I didn’t use that word. She’s only five, remember?), or be creative and make something out of it. I also told her, from my personal fount of wisdom, that it really does not matter what other people think. All the same I suggested that, if necessary, she distract them by making the whole thing exciting. I mean, how many people get to be partly scalped by an egg whisk? I told her they might even be envious.

She went off happily to kindergarten sporting her swept-over red-ribboned hairstyle and was still happy when I picked her up, with *Fluffy, in the afternoon. (*Fluffy is the wig out of which I created a small dog – another story).

The next morning, to my amazement, Elisa announced that she did not want me to do her hair. She did not want to hide. Again, she was happy when I picked her up from kindergarten. I asked if the children had said anything and she said yes, they wanted to know if it hurt.

The following morning, she elected to create her own hairstyle, sweeping her hair over one eye and placing a hairband on her head. I asked her if she could see anything and she replied, not much but she wanted to look cool.

I took a couple of photos of her with her new look.

“Don’t make me laugh, I want to look cool”, she said.

Well, neither of us could control ourselves, but she managed to look serious for a moment. I was just glad she could laugh at all.

When she left for kindergarten with Opa, she added her heart-shaped sunglasses to complete the look.

My heart is full of love and admiration for this brave, loving, creative and cool little girl.