I have hair.
A LOT of hair.
It has been decided, by my mother years ago, and more recently by my husband and I, that I have too much hair for my face.
It was, kind of, always this way. When I was a little girl, I was given a pixie so my mother could continue to care for my siblings and retain her sanity without having to deal with my hair and it’s almost too many to count cowlicks.
Have you ever thought about the origin of the word “cowlick”? I know its definition is “a tuft of hair that grows in the wrong direction,” but where did the word come from? According to Google, “The term ‘cowlick’ originates from the domestic bovine’s habit of licking it’s young, which results in a swirling pattern in the hair.” Hmm…I may need to have a talk with my Mom.
But, I digress…
Since moving to sunny, very humid, Florida, I think it’s safe to say my hair has grown. Now, of course, everybody’s hair grows vertically; but, not unlike my body, my hair has grown horizontally. It has grown horizontally to the point that, when brushed out, I have a good old fashioned, 1970’s “fro”….Remember Rosanna, Rosanna, Danna?