Look at me with my baldness!
So. That continues for awhile (I'm the baby on the left).
Aw I'm two and still don't have enough hair to cobble together a pony tail (on the right).
2 1/2 - is that the best we could do? Really? It's awfully floofy.
And when she was almost three, she finally grew herself the baby mullet.
At 3 1/2 my hair was long enough for pigtails.
The start of the bedraggled hippie child little messy fluffhead years. It gets worse.
Well, first it gets better for a minute. In kindergarten my dad did my hair.
Oh yeah, there it is.
When I told my mom bangs? She should have said no.
This is fourth grade? Someone needs to brush my hair. Although I can vouch for my mother: I wouldn't let anyone brush my hair.
Huh. So...this is pretty much what I do with my hair today. Some things don't change.
Let's skip ahead to 6th grade, and the greatest outfit in all the land.
And then when I was 12, my hair got VERY SUDDENLY CURLY. VERY CURLY.
Stay tuned for my next installment: Awkward high school years and college mistakes!