Hope had her first haircut this past Saturday.
Her Daddy sent me this photo. He says she was serious and a bit anxious but she never cried and when it was over she wanted to know where all the hair all over the salon floor went.
I saw her the next day and she didn't want to show me her hair.
We celebrated finding The Count, he had been hiding out with the Mickey gang.
Later that day ...
You really want to take a picture of my hair Nana?
Can you say please 22 10 times?*
Hurry up, hurry up, here it is
I'm not funny Nana, you're funny
* 22 10 is Hope's favorite number. She says them as 2 numbers but means them to be one. I am 22 10 years old (she's close), her foot is 22 10 inches long, she wants 22 10 cookies, and so on
Hope's hair is like a trip through her ancestry. She has the waves of her Mom's family, the Afro texture of her Dad and the soft curls I had as a child.
Her hair has dark and light brown with bits of black and blond.
She calls it her "mish-mosh" color.
And on we go