Brett and some buddies make an annual trek to St. George in the spring for a little R&R. I knew the trip was coming, and the girls would be ours for a long weekend. I was low on ideas for this column and anticipated getting some good material. I was not disappointed.

The first morning I got them up and life immediately became dicey. The night before, we had made plans for Hadley to do Elle’s hair in Dutch braids the next morning for dance pictures later in the day. They had to be done before school because volleyball, pickleball league and track practice left no time for Dutch braids after school. 

The problem arose when Elle got dressed. Somehow Hadley’s jeans were in Elle’s suitcase. Elle had to wear jeans to school that day, so she put Hadley’s on. They were too big, but she cuffed, cinched and tucked until she was satisfied. Hadley recognized the deception immediately and ordered Elle to change the pants. Elle explained she had to wear jeans, and these were the only ones available. Didn’t matter to Hadley. She insisted the jeans come off. Elle ignored her.

Well, they ate breakfast while Hadley reiterated multiple times, “They are my pants.” Elle ignored her. Then came time for Dutch braids. Knowing Hadley was not happy, I parted the hair and smoothed the tangles. She had agreed to the braids the night before so I knew she would do them. She parted the hair again, but it wasn’t straight, and she did those braids in record time. Now, Elle is no fool and she knew what was going on. When she went to the mirror to check Hadley’s work, she immediately became grumpy, “Hadley, the part isn’t straight and it’s not smooth.” The tables had just turned; Hadley was now ignoring Elle.

“Time for prayer,” Grandpa hollered from the next room. The miracle Grandpa and I were looking for didn’t happen. At “amen” both headed for the car still mumbling and I took them to school, feeling grateful they were on different campuses.

Grandpa picked Elle up at 3:30, and when she walked through the door, I suggested she get those jeans in the washer so they could be clean before Hadley got home after track and volleyball. Elle didn’t ignore that but before we started the washer, she dug a forgotten ten dollar bill out of one of Hadley’s pockets. “This is Hadley’s,” was all she said. I was impressed she was concerned about Hadley getting her money. Then about 5:00 I got a text from Hadley: “I’m done with track if Elle needs her hair redone quick.” Sounded sort of like repentance. At least Elle’s hair was on Hadley’s mind.

Life is Good when you have time to rethink and try to make your actions right. Ten dollars and an offer to do hair are almost as good as, “I’m sorry.”