2006-02-26 || 10:44 p.m.

|| world champion ||

my mum is doing very very well.

the first morning i did her hair as planned. my dad washed it in the kitchen sink, using the same no-nonsense circular motion he uses for the dog, and i whisked her to her bathroom to dry her hair and curl it. she sat on the toilet and went over the in-depth process her hair stylist uses to dye her hair. she told me i didn't have to be so gentle. i asked her to face the shower door so i could get the left side. we have the same cowlicks.

the next day she showed me her staples. she wasn't going to; at first she'd only unzip her hoodie to show my dad in the kitchen when i was in the living room doing the crossword. then dad and i were at the computer and she said it looked worse. it was bruised and not swollen anymore. it was almost concave. she opened her sweatshirt and pulled down the bandage and we studied it: the line that runs from the middle of her chest to her armpit. she zipped her hoodie back up and we went online to look at mastectomy tattoos (dad suggested a nipple; aline suggested a grapevine; i suggested gandalf).

she's doing very well. today she did her own hair and was especially bitchy about dad's coast guard uniform (i will post the picture when he sends it. so handsome!) and his getting snubbed for new auxiliary member of the year award (i was his date to the banquet. i was the youngest attendee by 33 years. we stole cookies on our way out and walked around the harbor so dad could suck in his gut and be fancy) and was nice to her mother on the phone.

i am back at home.

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