Good parenting = good hair


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We decided to take a short trip down to Seattle for three days, to get away with the family (after two weeks of ignoring the children.) This time of the year I am not only marking exams, but also working Africa Sleeps every day. (Don’t worry, you orders are still going out in a timely fashion )

Anyway, as soon as we arrived in Seattle, I started taking out one of my daughter’s braids. “There are too many people here who know what your hair should look like,” I muttered to her as I combed out her mussed up box braids. I had only done her hair a week and a half ago, but she had been hard on it in the meanwhile.

So we hit the town with one child in fresh Bantu knots, and the other with a simple ponytail.

Sure enough! not two hours later, right beside Pike Place Market, a lady called out to us on the street.

“Do you ever do your daughters’ hair in French braids?” She smiled at us and asked me pointedly. The pony tail.

I looked back into her brown eyes and smiled. “Of course! I am the cornrowing queen. But we are in between styles today.”

She smiled back at us, commented on how beautiful the girls are, and wished us a Merry Christmas. “You too!” I replied.

My daughter asked me why the lady had stopped us on the street. “Because, my darling, good hair means good parenting. She was checking that I could cornrow, to make sure that I am a good parent for you.”

My daughter smiled up at me. “You are the queen of cornrows!”

Ya betcha, babe.

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