Little C has some funny hair. Her matchstick-straight, wispy blonde locks always look as if she’s suffering a serious case of static electricity.
Although she’s not. That’s just the way her hair looks, and has looked since her newborn hair fell out.
Strangers — sometimes more than one dozen a day — comment on her hair. They stop us in the grocery store and when we’re out for a walk. They come up to us in parking lots. In the rain. While I’m balancing packages for the post office, an umbrella and a squirming baby.
When we go to one of my favorite home decor stores, the manager says “ohhh, my favorite baby hair is here.” Yes, that’s right. Not my favorite baby, but my favorite baby hair.
Moms tell me their sons/daughters/puppies had the same thing going on when they were fresh and new(ish). A waitress once forgot my order, she said, because she was so focused on C’s at-attention locks.