My daughter’s hair is
long now. She twirls it very
slowly around her right index finger
and down the bridge of her
upturned nose, stares with her favorite shade –
She knows what’s up, knows the deal
with her cycles and all that stuff, I told
her last year before it hit her, but
after her first panic attack,
I just found out I’d completely forgotten
to mention PMS.
She has never once let me
curl her hair. She brushes it very
smooth and straight now and she
talks in the confident unwavering manner
typical of a boy. I know it’s wrong
for me to say that. I would never
mention it to her.
I suppose I can tell you a
thing or two about raising a
smart and interesting daughter, but
I can’t yet give you a girl
who knows how to shave her legs.