Our Little Shirley Temple

First of all, just a side note as I watch the debate between Clinton and Obama. How amazing is it that in the first time in American history, we are going to have either a woman or an African-American democratic candidate for President?

Back to the subject of my blog entry tonight. Sophie’s hair is crazy. Crazy curly. Especially right after we wash it. Sometimes when I look at her, I wonder if the hospital switched babies on us. I don’t know where she gets it from.

Everyone thinks it’s so cute. Which is all well and good – it is cute. But it’s also a pain in the butt. It gets frizzy. It’s hard to keep it from getting knotty. And worst of all, I can’t seem to find someone to cut it properly. And when Sophie’s older, I’d be willing to bet my life savings that she’s going to hate it. And blame her father and me for passing her the horrible curly hair genes. I’m also willing to wager that we’re going to spend inordinate sums of money for her to be able to straighten her hair. The beauty product companies would do well to start marketing to her now.

But as a 28-month old toddler, it is truly adorable. And when she jumps up and down, the curls bob in time with the rest of her body. It’s hard to resist. Perhaps if we collect enough photos and videos of her curly hair, she won’t mind it so much when she enters puberty. Only time will tell.

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