I have never–not once–beautified my daughter’s hair in any way. When it’s daddy-daughter time, her hair is typically a post-apocalyptic mess. Just a big ol’ fuzzy mop. Part of this stems from the fact that my wife usually takes on this daunting hairstyling challenge. The other part I can safely say…
I mean, I’m a man. I might be hairy, but I sure as hell don’t know what to do with any of it. Do I cut it? Do I comb it? Blowdry it a little? I don’t know! And that’s where the fear comes in. We fear what we don’t understand. And I don’t understand hair.
But being a man also means stepping up to the plate and taking on challenges we don’t wish to face. And giving my daughter pigtails was going to be a challenge. So yesterday–finally–I stepped up to that proverbial hairy plate and took a big, meaty swing. Did I hit it out of the park?
Let’s find out.