My Hairbrush

I spent Easter weekend at my oldest daughter’s home. It was a wonderful time spent loving on my grandchildren and having some long overdue quality time with my daughter.

When I was getting ready to go to our Easter dinner at my son-in-law’s parents’ home, my daughter watched me as I put on my makeup and did hair. Just like when she was a little girl. And it’s the same thing I did with my mom.

When I finished my makeup, I pulled my brush from my travel bag and started to run it through my hair. My daughter caught a glimpse of my brush and grabbed it.

“Mom! You need a new brush!”

“Ummm…no, I don’t. I’ve had this one for decades and it’s perfectly fine.”

“But, Mom, the bristles are falling out of it!”

“Oh, I know. I find them on the floor every so often. But I have had this brush for such a long time that it kinda means something to me. I will use it until there are only two bristles left.”

“Well, this explains a lot about me! I have to show Mando!”

Denae took the brush and ran downstairs. “Mando! Mando! Look at Mom’s hair brush! This is why I’m the way I am!”

I couldn’t help but laugh at her words. “This is why I’m the way I am!”

I think she’s a pretty awesome girl so if my weird ways (and an old hairbrush) had anything to do with her character building, I couldn’t be happier. ♥️

Andi