This morning as the lil miss and I were leaving the office to head out to drop off at school, she looks up at me and says, “Mom? Did you brush your hair today?”
It’s not role reversal; I assure you. It’s my daughter’s way of indirectly saying, “Mom, your hair looks like crap today. I am noticing you didn’t dry or straighten your hair today. You let its natural body make uneven waves and stray strands do as they please.”
I affirmed I had indeed brushed my hair and told her some days I just don’t feel like “doing” my hair. That’s allowed, right? Hell, I am 44 years old now. My hair, and I, can pretty much do what we damned well please.
I find it ironically humorous, this child will notice my hair, but I practically have to ground her to make her take a shower just to keep hers clean! Oh to be a nine-year old child and able to judge the fashion-challenged parents of the world. How I do miss that ability!