Everything you need to know about my day can be told in the story of my hair. It may look like I’m innocently coloring a carrot, but if you look closely, you’ll see the chaotic strands of a child who was told she slept too late to eat breakfast at home, a child whose mother is bad at putting on tights and was (rightly) told as much, a child who would rather be wearing her dad’s flip flops right now than her weather appropriate winter shoes, a child who did not get to watch the Lion King’s wildebeest stampede in the car this morning because she (rightly) ran away from her mom in the parking garage, a child who was offered her least favorite meal of French toast (gag) when she arrived at school this morning.
This is my happy place.
These aren’t even the ponies I left the house wearing this morning. My mom set me up with two braids tied off with red ponies. It’s only 9:30, I’m on my second hairdo of the day, and it’s already a disaster.