Here baby, there Mama, everywhere Daddy Daddy.....

"Let it fly in the breeze
And get caught in the trees
Give a home to the fleas in my hair
A home for fleas
A hive for bees
A nest for birds
There ain't no words
For the beauty, the splendor, the wonder

of my HAIR, HAIR, HAIR, HAIR...."

~ from the Broadway musical HAIR

 

 

Dear sweet baby,

 

If it's anything like mine, I apologize for your hair.

 

While I have no idea if you will have curly hair, straight hair, or any hair to speak of until you're two and a half, I figure we might as well discuss this issue before you hurl your first brush across the room.

 

Let's explore some likely scenarios:

 

You might not have any hair for awhile. 

 

 

 

From what we've heard from our moms, both your daddy and I were as bald as Mr. Bigglesworth for a significant stretch of time when we were little. 

 

This might not be such a setback for you.  Many follicularly deficient individuals have lived lives of conviction and distinction -- noteworthy individuals such as:

 

 

The starship captain to be reckoned with, Patrick Stewart,

 

 

Irish rastafarian she-warrior Sinead O'Connor,

 

 

and Jedi master/reinventor of grammatic order, Yoda.

 

When you hair does emerge, it will likely act one of two ways:

 

 

Sleek, straight, and as well-behaved as your daddy's was, or.....

 

 

...the hair gods help you, like mine.

 

 

Your hair might unexpectedly change in color or behavior without warning.

 

This gave your daddy the shock of his well-groomed life in junior high, and I've heard stories of other closely related family members experiencing this phenomenon.  It very well may happen to YOU.

 

You might go to the salon one day for the new short style that's in fashion, and within a few ill-calculated snips wonder why your straight, brushable mane has begun to resemble Vicki Lawrence's wig from Momma's Family.  That's happened.

 

Your bodacious blondeness might turn as flat brown as a hicker'nut.  That's also happened.

 

It might turn white in your twenties. 

 

It might turn red, then brown, then reddish-brown, then auburn with copper highlights. 

 

Or it might just turn on you and eat your face.

 

 

OM NOM NOM NOM NOM!

 

 

Never fear, my little popsnorkel.  No matter happens on the top of your sweet little head, whether it's this:

 

 

or this:

 

 

 

or this:

 

 

...know that mommy and daddy have been through the good, the bad, and the unsightly with their own hair and will be waiting to comfort you with open arms and a fabulous hairstylist on speed dial.