Braid Fail, or Everything Ain’t for Everybody

“I want them out, now!”

“Have you tried witch hazel? Why don’t you wash them first?” My daughter waits patiently for me to respond, although I can see the exasperation in her eyes. Or maybe it’s sleep, it’s 5:30 a.m.

“Nope. Maybe I’m just one of those people who can’t wear braids.”

“Okay, but there’s some witch hazel under the sink.” Andrea turns to go back to bed; it’s barely light outside, and she is not a morning person.

“When you get up from your nap I want you to help me take them out.”

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