... there was a little girl. She had long beautiful hair that fell to the middle of her back. Her mother would love to fix it in pigtails, pony tails, with barettes and bows. But as the hair grew, so would the morning trauma of brushing. They had a whole routine that involved spray bottles of water, tangle spray, brushes and combs. The little girl would cry out in pain as the comb would catch on tangles. So one day she made the decision that she wanted short hair. The mother was reluctant to cut the hair, but finally agreed. The two went off on a journey to the nearest hair salon. As they waited, the little girl sat in her mother's lap. The mother saw how much her child had grown, her long legs folded up so that she could "fit". She realized that it was time to give the girl a little freedom, to let her take part in some decision making. And so the mother released her grip, and let the girl grow up, just a little.