This morning my twelve-year-old daughter asked me to braid her hair for school. I love it when she asks me to fix her hair. It doesn’t matter if there is conversation, there is an intimate connection. I don’t remember my mother fixing my hair; my yaya, or nanny, always did the honors. (Well, Mom did comb through my hair for nits, but I don’t think that’s quite the same.)So now whenever my children ask, I drop everything and say yes.
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