Dear Brooklyn,
Last week we made a deal.
The deal was that you could grow your hair out like Rapunzel (I'll probably have to eat those words someday) IF you do three things:
1. Let me brush your hair everyday. Simple, right? Not so much. I basically have to wrap my legs around you and brush like crazy for ten seconds before you break away and hide under your bed.
2. Let me put your hair up. You use to never let me do your hair, but since this deal you have been asking me to put your hair up. Miracles happen.
3. You have to let me wash your hair when you take a bath without screaming bloody murder and acting like the world is going to end any second. This is the one that will give us trouble and although I love your short hair, this is the reason I made the deal with you. I want bath time to not be I'd-rather-poke-my-eyes-out time.
To say you are excited about this is an understatement. You basically tell everyone we see that you are going to have hair like "Tangled".
I'm not going to lie, though, I will miss your cute little bob haircut.
Sniff.
Sincerely, Lori
