“What cha doin’ Grandma?” Jet asked as I pulled a basket from the closet.
“I’m going to brush Marcy.”
“Can I help?”
“Well, okay, if you’re very careful. We don’t want to hurt her. Remember she has a sore leg.” I gave her a wide-toothed rake. “If you find a tangle, don’t pull her hair.” We began the process of brushing Marcy’s long black fur. Jet has been brushing her own hair lately, so she has a good idea of how it feels to pull a tangle too hard.
“Here’s another brush like yours Grandma!” Jet pulled a second slicker brush from the basket.
“You’d better stick with the first one, Jet. That one is too hard for you to use without hurting her.”
“It’s not a toy,” she agreed solemnly.
“No. It’s not a toy.”
“I can use it when I get bigger.”
“Marcy has hair on her head.”
“Yes, she does, she has hair on her head like you do. Grandma’s going to brush her head, though. You brush her body.”
“I only have little bit of hair on my arms. Just a little bit.” Jet pushed up her sleeve and rubbed her hand over her arm. “You can’t see it. It’s just a little bit of hair. It’s right there.” She rubbed her forearm more vigorously.
I looked at her arm. She was right: I couldn’t see any hair. “Marcy has hair on her back too.”
Jet tried to turn her head to look at her own back. “I don’t know. Do I have hair on my back?”
No, I don’t think so, at least I don’t see any.”
“Let’s be done with this now, Grandma.”
“Sure. Marcy’s hair looks better now, doesn’t it?”
“It does! Let’s do my hair now!”
So we did.