My hair is naturally wavy which some believe to be an advantage. I’m not so sure. Yes, I’m grateful for never having had a permanent in all my years. In spite of this, my hair has a mind of its own. It even has personality; several of them, as a matter of fact.
In the early stages of my haircut, things are pretty much under control. I can wash it and comb it out into a natural wavy style. Then it gets complicated. Several cowlicks I have right in the middle of my bangs make a division, each side wanting to go its own way. Forget about a smooth look at this point.
As it grows a little longer, I have the distinct impression that Elvis has entered the building. My sideburns are longish and a slight waterfall appears at the back. On the Rock and Roll King the hairdo works, but on me it’s a disaster.
I should be grateful to grow into the next phase but it’s even worse. I call it the Woody Woodpecker phase. If you don’t remember this cartoon character, take my word for it, this is not an ideal hairstyle. It is basically characterized by a sort of unintentional ponytail coming from the back part of the crown.
At the end of my hair-growing cycle when I’m most in need of a cut, I go into the worst part. This is what I call the Einstein phase. Most everyone has seen pictures of the world-famous mathematical genius whose unruly mop is just a mass of waves and curls. When I arrive at this stage, I avoid mirrors and slink into work with a scarf or hat cover-up. The problem is that most hats won’t cover it and tend to pop off at the most inopportune moments. Believe it or not, it is at this point in time when I receive the most compliments on my hairdo.
It doesn’t make any sense to me, but maybe it’s hair envy. Let me tell you ladies who have never had these issues, it’s not the blessing you might think to have a ton of hair. In the summer, you sweat down your neck and forehead. In the winter, it gets caught in any headgear you might prefer. When long, as it once was, it actually causes moles to break open with its weight. I always coveted my childhood friend’s ease who could put the total of her hair in one tiny rubber band. I had to use a thick one used for asparagus bunches.
I must be grateful, though, for what God has given. At least I doubt that I will ever have issues with bald spots. From the money I save not buying perms, I might be able to buy mousse or hair gel. It’s a hairy situation.
Dianna
Sharing the Fruit of Maturity
