Juggler of words and children…collector of pottery shards
Staring is part of being a multi-racial family…well, in the south at least. When my daughters first came home, it drove me crazy. I absolutely hated it. Then, over time I developed an immunity to it. Yesterday however, was new territory.
Little Man decided that he wanted to have blue and red spikes in his hair. (Where he gets these wild ideas about spiky hair, I have no idea 😉 ) So, I went to Sally’s Beauty Supply and bought the gel.
I came home, wet his hair, applied some of my hair gel and used a blow dryer to coax it all to point straight up. Then, I used some of my texturizing product and hair spray to complete the look. When I was satisfied with the basic style, I applied the blue and red gel to the spikes.
Later that day, Little Man and Baby Girl decided to go to the grocery with me. We walked the aisles together: One black child with elaborate braid and beads, one white child with spiky, blue and red hair, and a white mom. Over and over we passed people who were struck immobile by the sight of us while we filled our carts with mundane things like potatoes and bread. Finally, I turned to Little Man and said under my breath:
“People are staring at us and it is all your fault. They are wondering what on earth my problem is to allow you to do that to your hair.”
I chuckled. Just then, we walked past the sushi counter. The chef paused, blade in hand to watch as we passed by.
“That guy is even staring,” Little Man said. “He works here. He should be nice.“