much pain as they did to look good.
Either way, once I found success, I
wasn’t going to mess with the
formula. I kept going back to the
salon every week, spending hours at
a time getting my hair straightened
and cornrowed. My mom would just
roll her eyes. “I could never date a
man who spends more time on his
hair than I do,” she’d say.
Monday through Saturday my
mom worked in her office and
puttered around her garden dressed
like a homeless person. Then
Sunday morning for church she’d
do her hair and put on a nice dress
and some high heels and she looked