hairdos

When I was a girl, I had very long hair...as did my sister. Doug's first memory of me is at school with my hair in very tight braids, which was a favorite style that my mom liked because it was neat. I hated Saturdays because that was hair washing day. We lined up in the kitchen and my mom washed our hair at the sink while we stood on a chair. It terrified me to see my hair flowing into the big drain hole in the sink and so I cried, or rather screamed the entire time. At about age 7, my mom had had enough of it and told me I had to wash my own hair in the bathtub, which was actually fine with me.

When my girls were little, I taught them how to wash their hair in the shower, but I loved to blow it dry and curl it or braid it. Even now, I think of doing their hair on Sunday mornings because it was something of a ritual and we normally did something a little special for church.

Since I only have one granddaughter with hair, I look forward to Sunday mornings when she is around. She tolerates the blow drying and fussing, which pleases me immensely. Last Sunday, Tricia came and sat on the bed and watched. I can't explain how I felt, but it was something like comfortable and delighted. It was a pleasure and she looked just beautiful like always!