Aurora entered the living room and tussled Tanner’s hair.
“You’re gettin’ shaggy. Time for a haircut,” she said.
Tanner enjoyed the affection for a moment before a look of worry spread across his brow.
“Did I scratch you? Sorry, I need to trim my nails,” said Aurora.
“I don’t remember my dad ever getting haircuts,” he said.
“He must’ve had ‘em. His hair was always short, but I don’t remember him going to a barber,” said Tanner.
“He went without you, then.”
“Okay, but why wouldn’t I notice him leave with long hair and return freshly groomed? Doesn’t that seem weird to you?” asked Tanner.
“Kids don’t notice that sort of thing. They’re always wrapped up in their own little worlds. Why is this bothering you so much?” replied Aurora.
“You mentioned cutting your nails. I saw my dad do that lots of times. He used to stand on the back porch ‘cause he said he didn’t have to worry about finding the clippings afterward,” explained Tanner.
“So, it bothers you to remember one thing, but not the other?”
“Exactly. But it’s not like either thing was particularly important.”
Aurora sat on the couch beside Tanner. “I have no idea how your brain works,” she said.
“That’s what scares me so much,” said Tanner, “I’ve had my brain my entire life, and neither do I.”