Remember the time I wanted my hair curled like our neighbor, Katie. I think they called it the duck curl—layers and rows of flipped up curls in the back of your head. You weren’t feeling very well and you made Warren do it. “No Mom, not Warren, I want you to do it. Warren won’t do it right.” Warren assured me he would and since you weren’t going to do it, I agreed. The next morning my hair looked like the fit I was having. Tears ran down my cheeks, “I told you Warren couldn’t do it!” I did not want to go to school that day.
Many years later I found out that the neighbor’s mom was a beautician, and Katie had naturally wavy hair. My hair was straight and I had Warren—clearly not a beautician.
That same beautician turned out to be my best friend’s mom, and who is now Ruthie’s mother-in-law. Yeah, it’s a small world.