My Name Is Annie Equality Hughes
Tuesday, September 6, 2016
When I was about 3 or 4, my beloved dad would let me sit on his shoulders and "do" his thinning hair while he read the paper.
I would use his pocket comb and my mom's pin curl clips (remember them?) and make curls all over his head where I could. Then I would take them out and style.
I would repeat this at least 3 times during our salon time.
My mother, in a completely nerved out voice, would ask him how he could could stand it.
"I don't mind," he'd reply with a grin.
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