Ode to my Hair

Throughout my life my hair and I have developed a love/hate relationship. There are times when the thick, lucious curls are a great sense of pride: perfect prom hairdos, soft tendrils framing my face, and the constant compliments. Then there are those weaker moments it its history: frizzy, uncontrollable days, the fro, and the now infamous and dreaded George Washington haircut. My hair is unique in that it has a mind of its own; a lot of times I don't know what's going on back there. Frequently it picks up debris: leaves, dust, small sticks, that astro pop back in high school. Today it took itself to a whole newlevel of infamous behavior. As I was washing it, in my four inches of water, I realized something was in it that didn't necessarily belong. Yes, it's true, a cockroach had moved in and made a comfy nest ( not too difficult in my hair). My only question: how long had it resided there?

You might be a Peace Corp Volunteer if you contemplate shaving your head after you discover that large insects have begun using your hair as a home.