Fix It

Josie was in a great mood when she woke up from her 3 hour nap. She was pleasant and cooperative and patient. I decided to go boldly where I had never been before. Putting all her hair up in a pony tail.

I have tried on several occasions to put her hair in barrettes or a small side pony tail. Most of the time I pulled it out because it looked horrible. The other times she pulled it out because she wanted to. Her inability to sit still was only partly to blame for my failures. I have no idea how to do hair. Yet another class I should have taken in college.

She sat on the couch watching TV. I snuck around behind her with a brush and a rubber band. Instead of the quick 8 second pull to the right, I spent a long time brushing her hair and parting it perfectly. I pulled it tightly together into the middle of the back of her head and wrapped the rubber band around my perfect pony tail.

I was so pleased at my efforts I stood back a few feet and admired my work. Just as I was noticing the bumps on the right side and the stray hairs falling down on the left, I saw Josie's hand reach up and feel the back of her neck.

"Where's my hair?" She said.

"I put it up," I said.

"It's different," she said.

"I know, it looks pretty," I lied.

"Let me see it," she said and jumped off the couch and ran down the hall into the bathroom.

As I walked into the bathroom, she was tiling her head to one side and inspecting herself. After a minute, she looked away from her own reflection right into the eyes of my reflection.

"Fix it," she said and waited for me to get the brush.