he does your hair (a letter to my girls)

dear ken and roo,

there's something i think you should know.

every day when i come home from work, i find your hair in lop-sided, uneven ponytails--sometimes using kid-sized elastics and sometimes using the huge ponytail elastics meant for my big ol' head. (those are funny days.)

you know what that means, don't you?

that means that every day, when the humidity sets in and your milk-and-sweat-soaked hair starts to plaster to your face, your daddy stands you between his knees with a tiny, fragile rubber band poised precariously between his enormous thumb and forefinger and he does your hair.

every single day--he performs this awkward ritual with a sense of  love and wonder and accomplishment and almost always with mixed, comical results.

your daddy does your hair for you.

i just thought you should know.

love you always,

mama