There have been a lot of traumatizing events in my life. The reason I HATE camping is because of something like that. However, THE most traumatizing thing that has ever happened to me occurred when I was in 1st grade. Mom was in the hospital for something (I think it was after Jenny was born) and this left Dad to take care of us kids. Usually that was a good thing because he would take us out to Frosty Freeze for dinner every night. However, getting ready for school in the morning was most traumatic. Dad would sit me on the counter and just stare at me trying to figure out what to do with my hair. Finally, after much contemplation, he started brushing and brushing until his masterpiece was finished. I looked in the mirror and I SCREAMED!!! My dad had given me not one, not two, but THREE ponytails. One on each side of the front of my head and one dead center on the back. I looked like a donkey with long ears and a tail. I cried and cried and begged him to take them out. Louis came in to see what the fuss was all about. In his logical tone he said, "Just tell the kids its the new style in France." My face was blotchy from crying and I steadfastly refused to go to school, but having a big brother who had no problem carrying you the entire way to school kind of squashed my protest. So during school I was teased and tormented relentlessly. It was very traumatic.
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7 comments:
you could have taken the poneytails out. But then yet the way men do hair it was probably all tangled up so that it wouldn' (couldn't) come out. That was a great story. But hey I guess you have to give dad some credit, He tryed.
Okay, seriously. I love your blog. lol.
I went to school all the time with messy hair when I was that age, so I don't know if having 3 pony tails would have even phased me. It's funny the things you just never forget.
I wish oh that there was a picture taken of that. It would be one of my treasured keepsakes. Just kidding. Abby gets really nervous any time she has to leave and I'm in charge of Bailee's hair. I don't try for pony tails or anything like that. A little hair produce, a couple flips with a flat iron, and maybe some berrets (I'm sure i spelled that wrong) and Bailee's off on her way. Love you honey.
You just never know what is happening when you're not there. Maybe that set in stone the fact that you were not going to stand for any fussing of the hair even with me. It does provide good comic relief now though.
I must have been too young to remember that. I'm sorry that is too funny. You gotta give dad props for even trying to do something.
That sounds awesome!! I'm surprised he tried. I would have just brushed it and sent you on your way! Perfect! Go dad!
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