Combing through the tangled knot that was Emma’s hair this morning, she cried, “I don’t like hurt. Ouch, use brush.” She grabbed the brush next to her and began brushing her hair. Only Emma’s “brushing” her own hair consists of placing the brush arbitrarily on some portion of her head and pulling down, which is fine if her hair isn’t tangled. If her hair is tangled, as it was this morning, Emma’s attempts to brush it, only serves to make it more so.
“Okay, Em. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I said, plying the brush from her.
“It doesn’t hurt,” Emma responded. Which meant it did hurt.
“Here, I’ll use the brush, see?” I said, being careful to not pull on her hair. How about I make a braid today?”
“NO! No braid. Ponytail!” Emma cried grabbing the brush again.
“Okay. How about I make pigtails?” I asked.
“Yes. Pigtails!” Emma said. She made her hand into a fist and put each fist on either side of her head, indicating where she wanted the pigtails.
“Perfect. I’ll do that,” I promised. After I put the pink frilly hair ties in place I said, “Let me see!”
Emma turned toward me and tossed her head from side to side making her hair whip around. With a huge grin, she shouted, “Pigtails!”
“Oh Emma you look great. I love those pigtails.”
“You’re so pretty!” Emma said jumping up and down.
“Yes you are. Now let’s go brush your teeth.”
When we went into the bathroom, Emma looked at her reflection in the mirror. “Look at you!” she squealed, grinning at herself. “You’re so cute!”
As we left to catch her school bus, Emma carefully put her hat on over her pigtails, only the pigtails were so high on her head it made her look as though she had little horns. I smiled at her as we got into the elevator.
Emma jumped up and down and waved her arms while making a kind of whooping noise, something she does when she’s excited.
“Are you happy?” I asked, smiling at her.
“Are you happy?” Emma repeated. After a pause, Emma shouted, “YES!”
Emma's Hope Book 