We had been playing house with her dolls and I styled their hair with braids or headbands and even a sparkly tiara, when Angel Girl said,

“Grandma, take your hair down.”

“Why?”

Those giant eyes scrutinized me with piercing discernment.

(This not-quite-four-year-old is actually quite judgy and has no problem letting me know if I’m wearing the right clothes or if my shoes are tied properly. Definitely some of my DNA, haha.)

“I don’t like it up in a scrunchie, I want to brush your hair.”

Uh oh, I thought to myself. I remember another little girl who used to love to brush my hair and it always turned out to be an exquisite disaster.

When hair is as curly as mine, it’s next to impossible to brush. The only time I can attempt it is when it’s freshly washed and I comb in product.

But will I say no? Not on your life.

“OK, I replied, “but PLEASE be as gentle as I am with your hair and T’s hair. You know it hurts to pull.”

Eye roll. “OK, Grandma. Sit down and turn around.”

Yes, ma’am! These are definitely two bossy boots angel kids.

For the next few minutes, while the angel stands behind me, all is silent as her brush unsuccessfully attempts to glide its way through my hair. She was intensely concentrating on arranging my hair into a semblance of “style.”

I feel her little hands twisting and pulling and puffing up certain areas. I’m afraid to look.

“What are you doing back there? Can I look?”

“Not yet. Grandma, hand me your scrunchie.”

“Here you go.”

Somehow the scrunchie is now imbedded in all of that twisting and spiraling and brushed out tangled up curly bird’s nest of her creative endeavors.

I know it’s going to be a long hard road to untangle the knots, but when she finally tells me she’s done and I can look, the pride (and love) in her eyes was totally worth every bit of it.

“Am I beautiful now?”

“Yes, you ARE beautiful now, Grandma.”

In her eyes, I am, and that’s all that matters.

Later, after the kids were tucked away in bed, I slathered conditioner on my hair, took my wide tooth comb and spent a good half hour or so untangling the knots, and fell asleep with a smile on my face.

These are the rare moments that weave a tapestry of joyful memories. However, I wouldn’t dare share a photo of my medusa-like hair catastrophe!