Long, beautiful, luscious hair.
And then I remember I'm a mom, and I don't have time to deal with what would undoubtedly be like another child, since my hair has a mind of its own.
I blame the double cowlicks.
Besides not having the time to deal with long hair, and the fact that when it's long it's not anything like those TresSemme commercials (see double cowlick reference), I also have the post-baby fallout.
It drives me nuts.
I run my fingers through my hair, and gobs end up in my hand.
Day after day, I do this, and my brain fractures a little.
And then I do this:
|Choppy choppy, taco sloppy|
And then I do this, and ask Jeremy through my sobs if he still thinks I'm pretty:
|Am I still lovable??|
He just sighs and says it accentuates my eyes, and then hides the scissors.