We have never cut Beatrice's hair. In all her 1264 days, it has grown into long, flaxen strands of silk. It is beautiful and wild.
She lets me fix it every day; she prefers 2 french braids. I like high ponies and single french braids. It always ends up undone, spilling waves well past her shoulders and in her face.
She loves it long. I do too. She hates brushing the tangles out. I do too. She wants to keep growing it out. I do too.
I wonder how long it will get!