"why do you always put your hair up like that?" he asked, not even looking up. he was too busy twirling his toy gun.
"like what?" I asked.
"in a ponytail like that."
my parents were busy prancing around the yard with plates of o'derves and steak patties. it was their annual summer block party.
the other kids were too cool to play with me.
so I was stuck there. standing next to the kid my parents would consider dirt poor.
"because I have ugly hair," I said simply. I could barely even look at him, my cheeks turning red. some of the other kids were already staring.
when I finally peeked over at him, he had a look of udder shock on his sunken face. "ugly?" he exclaimed. "if I had hair like yours, I'd wear it down all the time."
"but you're a boy."
"so?" he looked back down at his gun. "you still have pretty hair."
