Milk Curls

I met an Italian woman last night who admired Paigey’s hair.

“How old is she?” she asked in a fabulous thick accent.

When I told her two, she smiled and said her son used to have curls just like Paige’s. Until she stopped breastfeeding.

“In my country we call them ‘milk curls,’” she said. But really I think in her country they probably call them something like curlio latte.

Anyway, she said that the first haircut he got after she stopped nursing, the curls never grew back.

I was aghast.

As much as I mock those who refuse to cut their kids’ hair—particularly boys’ hair, and especially for reasons such as fearfulness that blondness or curliness will go away forever—as much as I disdain those folks, I have never cut Paigey’s hair.

The thing is, she hasn’t NEEDED a haircut yet.

And God knows that now, based on this new information, she may never get one. Unless, of course, I can somehow manage to muster some milk from these previously-retired boobies.