Just a tool of the trade of hair design? Just a means to fashion?
But not this time.
This time, a hair straightener is more than just a small electric appliance. It is a rite of passage.
My little tomboy is thirteen today. The last time she wore bows and dresses was when she was three. And after that, she joined the ranks of her brothers in playing baseball, and skateboarding, and racing hot wheels cars, and all the other things little boys do.
Until now. The hair straightener was her ticket to womanhood, the symbolic bridge that took her from childhood to young adulthood. She wanted her hair to be modern, and beautiful, and more like her sisters. She cared.
She even cared enough to have her little brother hold up her strands so she could straighten the locks underneath, one strip at a time. He obliged her. Once. Then said he’d never do it again. Now a big hair clip, and mousse, is on the shopping list.
My little girl has now entered the world of womanhood, and I am both happy for her and sad.
And hoping that the cell phone she gets as her birthday gift won’t blow up from over-texting.
K. L. loves noisy clocks, fuzzy blankets, anything pink, and all things Santa Claus. And she HATES the word normal. She is a member of the Women’s Fiction Writers’ Association and the Writers’ League of Texas. Please visit her at www.klromo.com or @klromo on Twitter.
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