White Hair

While driving to school this morning, Magny asks, “Dad, when I’m grown up will your hair be white?”

“Maybe. Probably.”

There’s silence for a while, then I look in the rearview and see that she’s quietly crying. “Hey hey, nugget, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t want you to die. If your hair is white….”

“Nugget, don’t worry, I’m going to be with you for a long time.”

She looks out the window, then looks back at me through the rearview. “Daddy, please don’t let your heart break.”

Too late.

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