In my family everyone has different hair. My sisters hair is long and luscious like a waterfall. My mom's hair is dark like a night sky. For me, my hair is like a smoothe volcano falling down the mound. I comb my hair every day. My mom uses product every day. My sister straightens her hair every day.
But my dads hair, my dad's hair is something else. My dad's hair is like an aging fruit. One day it will be a beautiful brown. Like fresh brownies out of the oven. Another day it will be an ugly grey. Like a moody person. But that is who my dad is. That is what holds him together, like 2 magnets. Changing the cycle of his hair would be a disaster. Like a egg falling to the ground.