With Autumn come changes in every arena of life. Recently, the Queen (may she live forever) changed from the world's most beautiful homemaker into the world's most beautiful music teacher. Her early departure time has transferred new responsibilities onto my worn shoulders. In addition to my role as King of Fools, I have also become the Duke of Dishes, the Magnate of the Made Bed and the Prince of Pony Tails. The coffee can full of hair bands, ribbons and barrettes has been annexed into my domain; although the ribbons continue to confound my bow-impaired hands.
One recent morning, I was attempting to remove the tangles from the long blonde hair of my daughter. In an attempt to distract her from the pain I was causing, I asked her where the tangles come from. She had no suggestions, so I speculated about the existence of the Knot-Man, a miserable creature who sneaks into houses at night and ties people's hair into knots as they sleep. Her response was "Daddy, that's silly!"; a sentiment often aired within our residence.
Through the course of the next several days, I continued to express disdain for this nocturnal fiend as I removed the offending knots from her hair. Soon, she was playing along too. One morning she told me that she thought the Knot-Man was invisible, although I am at a loss to accurately represent her charming pronunciation of the word.
It wasn't until one Saturday morning, when I discovered my recent invention had evolved into legend. Our neighbor came over and before I knew it, I had two four-year old girls chasing me around the house, calling me the Knot-Man. I complied by chasing them back and messing up their hair from time to time. Eventually, I moved on to more mundane tasks, but their game continued with an imaginary antagonist. As they played, my oldest boy heard my daughter tell her friend that the Knot-Man was crying. Curious, he inquired why our invisible friend was so sad. Her response:
