Tuesday, 17 July 2012
As a child, I used to have white blonde hair. So did my dad. Somewhere around the age of twelve it began to grow darker. Much darker. Her's is already much darker than mine was at her age. My little blondie is disappearing. I have been hesitant for her to have a trim, even though she has needed one. Because with each trim, a little more of her white blonde is snipped away. A little more of my baby girl, disappearing. Yesterday we went for that trim. And just as if it were her first cut, I asked the hairdresser to scoop up a handful of her white tresses for me to tuck inside her baby book. A treasured keepsake to remember her childhood locks when she is older, and wiser, and much, much darker.