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Today we have Winter Persapio, an author from Texas, bringing us a story from a moment

of motherhood. She writes essays about motherhood and is currently a humor columnist for her local daily.

Here is her story entitled Curls.

It takes a full 20 minutes to comb through her curls. I sedate the riot of hair with handfuls of slick conditioner and sit just outside the tub on her yellow footstool, combing

through the long black strands that spring back into ringlets after every

pull. I never imagined I'd have patience for this before I had children. When I think back to my life

before my daughters arrived, I can't remember doing anything quite so methodical as mothering.

Nothing has ever been as demanding of skills I didn't possess.

I've never faced so many moments when I was at the end of my rope,

where I was driven to shouting at another human being at my own child,

only to apologize later, much too late, much too little.

The comb catches in the thick nest of twists and turns, and I pull her hair slightly.

She rarely protests when this happens.

Genetics must tie the curly hair gene with the tough scalp one.

This genetic combination did not include the gene that extends graciousness with curious strangers, however.

Her naturally curly hair draws compliments everywhere she goes.

...