Hair and Cinnamon Buns

The other day, Deanna did her own hair before school. She pulled it into a ponytail, then didn't pull the ends all the way through, leaving the hair in a loop.

"Look, Mom," she announced, "I have a bun. And I did it myself."

I smiled and nodded, not willing to burst her bubble. However, after several remarks about how nice her bun looked and how easy it was to do, and how everyone ought to do buns, I was a little afraid she might go to school and chastise her friends for not doing their hair in "buns" more often. I decided she needed to know the truth.

"Sweetie," I explained, "that's not really a bun. It's just a ponytail that you didn't pull the hair completely through."

"Then what's a bun?"

"You start with a ponytail but then you twirl the end of your hair around the ponytail holder and pin them down. It really does look like a bun - like a sweet roll or cinnamon bun."

"Oh." She was a little disappointed, but she doesn't even have hair pins, so a bun probably wasn't going to happen for her. And certainly not of her own doing just yet.

She thought about it for a minute and then brightened.

"Well, maybe a hair bun looks like a cinnamon bun, but I don't think anybody'd want to eat it."

I laughingly responded, "Except maybe Donovan. You can never be too sure about him."

We both laughed, appreciating the fact that Donovan often chews on our hair. Maybe he really does think hair is as good as cinnamon rolls.

Yesterday, I was getting ready to go the hospital to visit a friend. My hair was lack-luster and flat. I fiddled with it a little, then decided to pull in into a high ponytail. I used a barrett first, but the hair just fell flat against my head again. I got out one of Deanna's rings and used it instead of the barrett. It added a little more heighth, but the weight of my hair still pulled on the front. Finally, I wrapped the hair around the ring, pulling it into a tight bun and reached for hair pins one-handed while holding the bun in place with the other. I successfully attached it with only 3 pins, then took off for the hospital.

When I got home, it occurred to me to show it to Deanna.

"This is a bun, honey. See how it's curled so it really looks like a bun."

She nodded, examining it carefully. We chatted for a few minutes, then went outside to check on Don and the boys, who were working on the side of the house building a garden box for me. The puppy was tied around the wheelbarrow and the boys were sitting in the driveway keeping Dad company while he worked. I spoke to Don and the boys, then noticed Donovan was jumping up on me, trying to get my attention so he could greet me. I bent down to him, tucking me chin down so he could give me lots of kisses on the face. Instead, he went straight for my hair. I felt his teeth on my bun. I quickly grabbed the top of my hair and gingerly extricated it from his jaws.

"Let GO of my hair, you monkey," I yelled. "That's a hair bun, not a cinnamon roll."

Deanna glanced up just in time to see me pull my hair out of Donovan's mouth. Her eyes got big around and she broke into a deep laugh.

"You were right, Mama. He doesn't know the difference between hair and treats."

Good thing a hair washing was on my agenda.