I’ve been a little overwhelmed here lately, which is part of the reason it’s been so tumbleweedy in these parts. Overwhelmed, and also quite a bit sick of myself. Aren’t all of you sick of myself, too? I certainly wouldn’t blame you. Nevertheless, I’m pushing past it.

And so: A story.

Ruby had her first hair cut on Friday the 13th. I don’t know what the big deal is with that date; I always have such great Friday the 13ths. Sure, this one was a particularly bad one if you were Tim Russert. But lucky for me, I wasn’t and I’m not and so my Friday the 13th, 2008 was lovelier than any other day of the week leading up to it.

So there we were in the hair salon where Amber, my stylist, sat Ruby atop two stacked bundles of towels and tipped her head back into the u-shaped lip of the sink. Ruby rolled with it like an old pro, not saying a word—just giving into it—while Amber began to wet and then wash her hair, massaging first the shampoo and then conditioner into her scalp. I think this kid will be quite at home in the salons of the world.

I stood to the side while Amber used her knuckles to knead Ruby’s head. Her curls—stretched long and drenched in bubbles—spiraled with the running water and stuck to the sides of the sink bowl, fanning out behind her in rippling waves. Each blink of her eyelids slowed until she was nearly catatonic. From my hovering view, Ruby looked as though her eyes were closed but with her head tilted slightly to the right, she was peering down her nose, watching everything in the mirrored wall across the room.

She was quiet except for when I moved to kiss her and blocked her line of sight. She scolded me and waved me away with a fling of her right arm and returned to staring at herself, taking big, silent breaths, her nostrils flaring almost imperceptibly. Then, without moving her eyes from herself, she exhaled to the rhythm of Amber’s handiwork and said, “I’m beaUUUtiful, Mama.” The nearly-whispered words floated on her sigh in such a delicate way as to make me wonder if they’d actually been spoken. But they had been. And they captured perfectly the ecstasy I feel when I stare at her lovely face.

“That’s right, baby,” I said. “You are beautiful. And don’t you ever let anyone tell you otherwise.”