I’m knot the only one . . .
My daughter Amara, six, has beautiful, waist-length black hair. And while it’s much admired, it is creating a wedge between us.
Every morning she holds her head while I grasp the detangler brush (we’re on the sixth type, because none of them works) and struggle to get all the knots out.
She screams and squirms and I yell at her to keep still and finally, after what feels like an eternity of tugging the knots are out.
The other day in the gym I overheard a little girl say: “You are so gentle with my hair, my mummy really pulls it.” Nice to know I’m not the only “knot buster” in town.