right in the middle of her forehead.
And when she was good,
she was very, very good.
And when she was bad, she was horrid.
I have naturally curly hair. When I was a kid, I hated this little poem. I thought it referred to me and meant that I was sometimes horrid.
Here is a picture of me when I lived in Panama.
My hair was very curly because of the humidity. When we moved back to Minnesota, my mother was disappointed that my hair lost (most of) its curl.
It still goes crazy-curly on humid days. Here is me on a dry day:
Here is me on a humid day:
Hopefully by now I have learned not to be horrid when I'm bad. I try even to reduce the days when I'm bad. I'm not perfect, but hopefully I'm not horrid.
5 comments:
By the terms of the Geneva Convention 1967 International Agreements one can not be held responsible for their actions on bad hair days.
There is no need for moralizing. You are a fine person!
C: Loved your post. What a sweet photo. We should all keep photos of our little selves handy. The dry and humid photos made me smile. About the humid hair day, all I can say is that it's good you didn't attend my Catholic grade school. I had a nun who didn't get the genetics and uncontrolability of hunid hair days . . .
I LOVE that poem! As a little girl my dad would say it to me and when he reached the word "horrid" He would say it in a very maniacal way and tickle me silly. I loved it. He did that with my girls and with his granddaughter....we all loved it. Wish he was still here... BTW--you are cute either way (this said by a lady with board straight hair who always...even to this day...wished she had curl to her hair.)
Gram, really?? That would have been more reason for me to feel that I was horrid! I'm glad I wasn't there, too.
C: Yup! really. The nun pulled out a brush and tried to tame my BFF's hair. Of course the brush she pulled made things ever so much WORSE. Took the attention away from me for humid hair days. ;-)
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