After a longer than usual attempt at living with the hair God gave me (straight & limp), I gave up & went back to a perm. As usual, it turned out a bit frizzy.
Returning from the beauty shop, I walked in the door of our home. Elizabeth, my almost-three-year-old, had never seen me with curly hair. She took one look at me and ran out of the room screaming. From that point on, she refused to stay in the same room with me, crying whenever I came near.
That night I was telling my husband about it when Elizabeth piped up, "It's OK. I just close my eyes when I look at her!"
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