All You Have To Do Is Stay

Four New Feet

┏ 　　　　　┐

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕋𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖 :

𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝙽𝚎𝚠 𝙵𝚎𝚎𝚝

└ 　　　　　┛

Nanny sat at the table as she attempted to pull a brush through the matted mane A. had grown over his years in the old Willoughby house, that's when the last comb had snapped in the poor boy's hair. They really needed a haircut, that's for sure. Luckily, one of her friends from college ended up leaving her degree in elementary education and decided to pursue hairdressing.

"Well, that was our last comb, kiddo," she sighed. "I think this is gonna have to be a job I'll have to hand over to a professional."

"Aw," A. pouted. "Are you sure you can't get all of it out ?"

"Afraid not," she soothed. "You've broken every comb I've got. Luckily, one of my friends from school is a hairdresser, and she's one of the best I know. She even cuts my hair !!"

"My old mommy used to make yarn out of hair," A. commented. "Our sweater was made out of that yarn. Sometimes she would pick up the hair from the bathroom after Tim would cut our hair."

Nanny grimaced at the thought of hair being used as yarn – look, she'd heard of human hair being used in stuff such as hair extensions and wigs, or even fake eyelashes. She didn't even want to think about what other hand knit things in that house was made from human hair. At least the image of Tim attempting to give both twins a bowl cut much like his own was rather humorous in comparison . . . and she'd much rather think of that than how their mother acquired said hair for yarn.

"Does your friend make yarn out of hair ?" A. questioned.

"Well, sometimes she sends off hair to make wigs for kids that really need them," Nanny answered. "But not very many people find human hair yarn to be very appealing."

She picked the twin up from the table and she him on the ground, before she rustled the matted hair atop his head, before he giggled and swiped at her hands.

"Okay, bedtime, kiddo," she said. "I'll be up to tuck you in after I pick up my mess."

"Okay, mommy," he dismissed .

He scampered back up the stairs and she watched him hop up each and every step. It warmed her heart to see how these kids' personalities seemed to develop in a new environment. When she first met all of them, they were all quiet, and they stuck to themselves. They busied themselves with quiet activities, with the exception of Jane who was always humming something under her breath, or even full on singing sweet rhymes as she carried out her day. She'd even caught Tim humming soft tunes under his breath, especially when he was drawing, or writing in his notebook, with his tongue caught between his teeth as if his tongue went in motion with each letter he wrote. But now, it seemed that they'd developed their own little traits.

She'd noticed that Tim was incredibly patient and gentle with his siblings, especially his sisters, in comparison to being the ringleader, the angry sheep herder he once was in the old house. Jane was stubborn and insistent, she knew what she wanted, and rarely would anyone stop her – she was definitely a strong girl that would become a stronger woman. A. was goofy, scampering in each step, starry – eyes, full of questions and childlike wonder that made her nostalgic for when she was equally as naïve as he was, he was a walking ray of sunshine, which only made sense when she'd notice he was in yellow. B. was gentler, quieter, more intrinsically inquisitive, constantly trying different things, introverted, focused on things that he enjoyed, like puzzles and blocks, it was like his little brain was constantly at work. Even Ruth was blossoming into a little wild child of her own.