"I can't help it, it's just my lot in this life to be so. It must be such a heavy burden, dealing with my idiocy all the time."

"I should hope so," he says turning serious yet again. "Because you're always going to be both. Just as your brother and sister are always going to be both. They are no less Air Nomad because they are not airbenders, just like you are no less Water Tribe for the loss of your hair.

Never forget, Tenzin: Air can move water too."

"The Air Nomad tradition of shaving one's head is two-fold," he says in his Lecture Tone. "One, it marks us as students of the Air Traditions. And two it serves as a constant reminder of how we strive to detach ourselves from the trappings of the material world.

Having said that," he pauses, a small smile forming at the corner of his mouth. "I think you look good."

Aang pursing his lips is the only warning Tenzin gets before a stray gust of wind catches the back of his robes, and drapes them over his face.

"Sooooon," Aang counters, just shy of a peal of laughter. "You know, your mother still has your hair. If you want, after your training is done, we could always glue it back on."

"We'll hold on to it just in case. And somewhere secure so your brother doesn't glue it to his face in an effort to be Wang Fire for the Solstice."

"Do I even want to know?"
Aang suddenly sounds very, very tired.

"I don't suppose I could get that promise in writing and possibly notarized, could I?"
As if such actions would protect Aang from Katara's wrath should...when someone inevitably gets hurt.

Aang smiles broadly at his son.
"If I thought for one second that such a thing would carry any weight in the Council of Mom, I just might."

His smile softens to a grin as he nods.
"She was. Is, actually. It's a compromise we both thought was suitable, given the circumstances."

Aang pauses, turning his attention out to the water once again. His tone is a touch more thoughtful, though it's far from the one he uses during lessons.

"We're living at a delicate point in history, Tenzin. Where our actions now will have consequences we can't possibly predict into the future. It's thrilling and scary and wonderful all at the same time. We have the power in the here and now to affect the lives of all that follow after us in the paths we're blazing before them.

A lot of Air Nomad culture was lost during the war, and I'll be the first to admit that we're making a good deal of it up as we go along...and that's okay. It's good even, because it gives more meaning to the things that we do, and the traditions we choose to follow.

We didn't cut your hair because we were looking to punish you, or single you out, Tenzin. And we certainly never intended to separate you from your Water Tribe heritage. Your mother and I agreed that cutting your hair was a suitable way to connect you with the past. Your past. To the masters whose forms and lessons you'll be learning."

Aang turns back to his son.

"Do you understand?"

"Oh yes," he says adopting a somber expression that could in no way ever be confused for actual somber. "Very serious. Dignified, even. At all times."

Aang gasps, as if scandalized.

"Tenzin, you're not actually accusing your father, the all-mighty Avatar, or speaking in falsehoods, are you?"

"Well knock it off," he says whipping up another stray breeze to once again sweep his son's caplet over his head. "You're making me look bad."