When I was little, some mornings when my mom had to work or was sick, my dad helped us get ready for school and if we were running late, he would brush our hair while we were at the table eating our cereal.
I remember that he never pushed the brush down hard enough to get through all my hair. I have always had a hard head and could pull on my hair without it hurting much, so when I would brush it, I would pretty much scrape the brush along my scalp so as to get all the hair at once.
When my dad would brush it, he was so gentle it almost felt like he wasn't brushing it, but whenever I would reach up and touch it, it would feel soft and brushed. Somehow he was getting the job done without the force I was used to. I remember loving the fact that my dad had brushed my hair and had taken such care to not hurt me.
5 comments:
What a wonderful memory!
That is so sweet. I vividly remember laying with my head in my grandmother's lap while she gently pushed the hair behind my ear, for what seemed like hours. Maybe that's why I love having my hair brushed and played with now.
Good memory :)
That was a beautiful little anecdote. Thanks you!
that's sweet.
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