Descriptive Essay About My Mom

1077 Words5 Pages
Knock, knock… the sound on the door caught our attention. It was around 11 at night and all one could hear was chirping of crickets and the purr of my cat, Maya. I was sitting there in my mom’s lap crying as loudly as possible. My mom, exhausted from all the daily chores was trying to get me to sleep. There was hair all over the place and I was crying and shouting at my mom. That’s when we heard the knock. If it had been during the day, we would not be that anxious, but it was almost midnight. My mom and I gazed at each other in awe; there was a moment of silence. Then we heard a second knock. It was louder than before. I looked at my mom, I could see she fear in her eyes too. My mom who was also scared and curious slowly kept me down and…show more content…
I had always been very fond and proud of my hair. No matter what others tell me, I would always go infront of my mirror andlook at my hair, and believe me, I had never been unsatisfied by it. I used to wonder what was wrong with these people. I had my hair just like my mother’s; half curly and half straight. According to my mom, she got her curly hair from her father and the straight ones from her mom. When I looked in the mirror all I could see was the front part , which was soft and silky. What I could not see and others could see was the curly and rough hair on the hind part that standed perpendicular to my head. Whenever my parents tried to cut my hair I would run and hide somewhere until they gave up the idea. I still remember the time when they tried to cut my hair and I ran away and hid in the storage building for the whole day. I can understand my parents too. I was an energetic little girl. I would make a lot of mess around the house and get my clothes and hair dirty. Now when I live by myself I understand the amount of load my parents had. Things does change a lot when we grow older but as a stubborn little girl back then my only ultimate goal was to convince my parents to let me have a long hair. In the day of the incident my father had tried to chop my hair with his big old scissors. He had even lectured me about how disgusting it would be

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