#140 Not to Be Rude

Here is an oldie from Jack’s days as a five-year-old. 

Life hands us what we call “light bulb moments” from time to time; one such time was Haircut Day. 

I had cut Jack’s hair first, and he scurried off to Grandma’s to dawn the new ‘do. Shortly after, I followed with Sam—sporting the same new look. When Sam and I walked through the door there was Jack. He promptly burst into a laughter that only Jack can produce (it's a sound somewhere between complete joviality and heartless cruelty—you’d know it if you heard it). 

He not only laughed but lifted a pointing finger and said to Sam, “You look weird!” with his continued Jack laugh—and then an abrupt stop. “Wait. Is that what I look like?” As quickly as he had burst into laughter, he ran to the nearest mirror. “I look weird.” And he burst out laughing.

And that is when life handed me a light bulb. All these years I had thought Jack loved saying things to hurt people’s feelings—just for kicks. It turns out, he’s just saying whatever thought crosses his mind. If he thinks your hair looks weird, he will probably say so. And if he thinks his hair looks weird, he will also probably say so.