choices, choices

Tonight as I was laying in bed with Olivia, getting ready to read her night-time book, I was running my fingers through her hair (we had washed it and it was still wet-tangles are our morning enemy). I mentioned that it was time for us to have a trim. Olivia then asked if we would be giving her trimmed hair to someone who needed it. I assumed that she had heard about 'locks of love' and that was what she was referring to. This led us to talk a little about why some kids might need to have a wig made for them. I explained that some people become sick and the special medicine they take could make their hair fall out, so they might wear a wig. Olivia then looked up at me with a concerned look and asked , "Is that what happened to Uncle Will?" "No, sweetie," I replied "Uncle Will did that to himself by choice."