I have countless memories as a child sitting on the floor half asleep as my sisters tackled the daily duty of doing my hair. I would restlessly sit, as my sisters attempted to remove my knots, make the perfect ponytail, or french braid my hair. And when I thought I could be stealth, I would practically roll my eyes to the back of my head as I tried to catch a glimpse of "Arthur" to ease the pain. However, each attempt was shot down by a quick "stay still" and a readjustment of my head.
I am very grateful for each of those mornings. My sisters (and mom) had helped me through the infamous "spike", numerous "rat's nests" and thick enough hair to make one's arm tired by simply brushing it! Thank you ladies! Believe it or not, "Seventeen" is not why I am able to do my hair today!
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