Week 22 - Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

Dear Kaylee,

Remember how last week I described October as a whirlwind? Well, nothing I’d been through up to that point could have possibly prepared me for the real whirlwind of the end of the month and the beginning of November. As I write these notes to you, I am employed by a small non-profit organization dedicated to spreading a love and respect of literature. And the first few days of November found me working my butt off in preparation for our annual conference. That said, this was a week in which I had very little contact with your mother and, by extension, with you. I missed you both terribly when I was alone in my hotel room, or in those moments when I was rushing from place to place trying to make sure that one detail or another was being taken care of. It was a ridiculously stressful time, and I’m glad that it’s over.

You spent the better part of the week seeing how hard you could kick your mom. You might’ve been hiccuping, as well. Whatever it was, it was still a sensation that your mother was getting used to, and it kept her up at night from time to time. And while that was somewhat irksome, it put her mind at ease to know that you were in there, that you were active, and that, ostensibly, you were doing just fine.

Inside the womb, our reading tells us that you were growing two different kinds of hair. One kind was a soft, downy body hair called lanugo, which would fall off shortly before or after birth. And the other kind was the kind of hair to be found on your head. We’re told that the hair you’re born with often looks very little like the hair you’ll eventually have, that we two brunettes (some say I’m actually a “dirty” blond) could end up with a little redhead, at least for a little while. And that made me consider what kind of hair I did hope you’d end up with, and whether I’d prefer you get your mom’s tresses or mine.

I guess, in the end, I have no real opinion on that. I’ll be happy with whatever you end up with. Although, when it comes to hair, and what mothers and fathers do to the hair of little girls, I have particularly strong opinions. Your mother is well aware of these, thankfully. And we’re in agreement that, no matter what color hair you end up with, there will be no tying up of a few spare strands of wispy hair with a big, brightly-colored elastic band. I can’t even really describe to you the feeling that comes over me when I see a little kid done up like this and I thank my lucky stars that I ended up with a woman who agrees with me on this score.

So, this week you’ve got hair. But it’s going to fall out. And then you’re going to get more of it. And it won’t be until you’ve got a whole helluva lot of it that an elastic band gets anywhere near it. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

Love, Dad

LettersE. Christopher Clark