Sunday, September 19, 2010


I've been visiting a home with two seven-year-old girls.

One has her own beauty routine in the morning. She uses a comb-like brush on her hair before she takes one with bristles, wets it and brushes till her hair's damped down and straight. Then she looks at herself smugly in the mirror, turning from side to side. "There," she says. "My hair is perfect."

The other runs a brush through one side of her hair and she's done.

So when we let the 'lid' down on the convertible and they're in the back seat singing along to Yakety Yak, guess which one starts squealing because her hair's getting blown.

Nope. Both of 'em.

Didn't realize they started so young.

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