Actually, it was all in one day, but Francie finally got her long desired wish for short hair.
This child has beautiful hair -- Hair That Women Dream About kind of hair. Thick, glossy chestnut waves that cascade over her shoulder. When she was a baby, it hung in ringlets so thick and so large that strangers stopped to ask me if I had used hot rollers.
(No, definitely NOT hot rollers on my ONE YEAR OLD.)
And yet, with all that beautiful hair, she is supremely unsentimental about what happens to it.
She loathes the care involved with all that hair, and she has yet to reach a "girly stage" where she wants to do anything more with it than slap a headband in it. She's no Breck girl, that one.
She has been begging to be shorn for many months, and she figured that she would donate her hair since she had so much of it.
My mother came and took Francie to her salon, and she came home with a very cute bob and a bag full of two ten inch braids.
I think she wouldn't have batted an eyelash if she was faced with Jo March's situation.
In fact, now that I think about it, there may be a bankroll in that girl's follicular abundance.
Thank goodness her hair grows fast, because college don't come cheap.