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| How do you even open this thing? |
I am thinking this as I watch various heads of hair being combed and brushed, tied and untied, twirled and braided and unbraided. Hair, hair, hair, hair, long glorious rivers of hair. Mommy combs Lucia's hair while unweaving a tangle here and there (a process which Lucia seems to think is some form of torture). Teresa brushes it to one side, then swings it back, fiddles with it, brushes it again.
Josefina has gone to sleep. But earlier, she was perched above Mommy, behind her in the chair, "fixing" Mommy's hair. Josefina can still "perch" and wiggle her way into places already occupied by grown ups. The others are too big for that.
We're not going anywhere right now. Just sitting around the living room on a January evening.
Feminine mysteries. The bunching and braiding. The pins and clips that have to match with an outfit (huh?). Fuzzy hair bands all over the house (in various colors). Its destined to increase more and more as they grow (even though we're determined keep the bling level under control). I'm convinced that some of these hair gizmos defy the laws of physics.
How does that clip open? How does it stay shut?
We are a low frills family. Still, I think that each girl has her own bag just for hair stuff. (And the women reading this are saying, "of course, what's so complicated about all this?" But the men understand my perplexity.)
When John Paul's hair gets more than an inch long, all he wants is a haircut!
