Sophie’s hair is getting very long. I am ashamed to admit it, but the last time I had her hair cut was about six months ago. Sophie is in no rush to go to the salon. The last time we took her to get a new ‘do, she cried. And cried some more. She was not a happy camper.
Needless to say, after that last experience, I’m in no rush to go back to the salon, either. In the meantime, her curls are getting curlier and curlier. And she won’t even wear barrettes.
When her hair is wet and hanging almost straight, the strands reach the middle of her back. Pretty amazing. I still wonder where the hell they came from or rather, who the hell gave them to her. And I still wonder if she’s going to retain the curls as she gets older. At this point, I can’t imagine her without them. They’re just part and parcel of who she is.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m steeling for the day when she’ll be asking us to buy her a hair straightener. And I’m sure that when she’s a teenager she’ll spend way too much time getting rid of the curls. But for now, I’m loving them. They boing and boing.