My mom tells me that for about the first 2 years of my life, my hair was soft, smooth, and free of tangles. Then one day, seemingly overnight, I woke up with a rat's nest, and the rest is history. Even now, it still tangles into wicked knots and I don't love letting anyone other than myself brush it.
I hadn't thought about that story in a long time. Until last week, that is.
Emerson's hair has always been quite easy to manage. While it's fine and thin like mine, she has some waviness from Jeff's side. I hoped that was enough to prevent the epic tangles that I grew up with. No such luck.
She woke up one day last week with big tangles. Odd, but manageable. But then the next day and the next after that, the tangles have gotten worse and worse. And not surprisingly, I'm now having to wrestle her to do her hair in the morning. Joy.
Sorry, kiddo. Add it to the list to gripe to the shrink about when you're older.
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