Flow It, Show It, Long as God Can Grow It

I am a short woman with straight, dark hair.  SLB is a short man with straight, dark hair.  Thus, it only makes sense that our tall, blonde daughter's hair is now growing out into a curly mop top. 

We know that the height comes from my mom's side of the family, and we guess that the blonde is either from SLB himself (he used to be a towhead) or again from my mom's side.  The best we can do to guess at the curly-headedness is that it's a fairly recessive gene from my dad's side of the family.  Other than that, we're stumped.  Livy Bean is truly her own lady.

And some days, when we're really lucky, she is her own lady with FANTASTIC bedhead.  The curliness adds amazing height and dimension to her sleep bedraggled locks.  For example, one recent morning she woke up with a perfect cropped bouffant 'do reminiscent of conservative 1960's secretaries.

Miss Larsen, would you please take dictation?  Bring your steno pad...

Feminine, but businesslike.  That's our Livy.

Bring in a cup of coffee, too.  Black.  You can get one for yourself, too, if you'd like.

The profile was remarkable.  No product here, just the magic left over from a nighttime visit from the Bouffant Fairy.

The curls have even started to ruin a beloved post-bath tradition of slicking her hair back into a Gordon Gekko 'do. 

Before curls.

After curls.  No hope for Wall Street here, hippie.

But it's nothing that a barrette can't fix.

Sing it!: She's got Charlie Manson eyes...