A Ponytail: More Than Meets The Eye

It’s just a hair -do.

You know?

But then again

it isn’t.

It’s so much more.

So much more.

I keep seeing her grow up

through silly bands

and hair styles

and not holding my hand when we walk by summer staffers

and giving me hugs when she thinks I just need them

and making peace with her siblings

or trying to earn money to save for a zhu zhu pet

or writing things down

or reading directions alone

or reading all of Alice in Wonderland all by herself to her siblings at night while they are in bed.

She used to have the cutest little girl haircut.

But when the scissors came round this time, she made a request.

“Can I grow my hair out longer?”  she asked.  “Can it get long enough to have a ponytail?”

We said yes and we let life happen and hair grow.

Until one morning recently London came out of the bathroom.

“I think it’s long enough now,” she told me.

I didn’t have to ask what she was talking about.

I already knew.

“Bring me the ponytail holders,” I said.

It was a little like working magic, with a twist here and a hidden barrette there and about a dozen other barrettes holding wisps of golden hair.

But in the end

London

had

a

ponytail.

And thus begins the first of many hair trials and tribulations my daughter will endure throughout her life.

Yeah.

It’s about so much more

than

hair.