#AZatPP #day17 #letterQ
Mother said that when I was born,
I had a ‘queue-pee’, a gorgeous one.
But by and by many more curls appeared,
Filling my little head, though my parents, it cheered.
Pretty soon, the curls got fuzzy,
They stuck out stubbornly, defying gravity.
The school headmistress, the curls enraged,
For they simply refused to be tamed.
‘Proper girls have their hair tied neatly.
What is this nest that you carry around daily?’
I wailed and missed sorely,
The days when I sported a single queue-pee!
The teenage years were a sordid mess,
Add acne to unruly curls, you can guess why I did stress.
I poked, I prodded, I did try to straighten,
The curls that persistently balked at the hot iron.
I realised that hair treatments, ultimately,
Were making me lose my hair and sanity.
I let the curls grow out,
‘I’m Pretty Woman’, I’d think out aloud.
As I embraced my hair and my life consequently,
I no longer missed smooth hair or my little queue-pee!
‘Queue-pee’- An old Yorkshire dialect word for a curl of hair on top of a child’s head.
Pic credit: My mother: featured are my dad, little sis and of course, me!