After 26 years and more than a million re-dos I have made peace with my cowlick.
Today, finally, my cowlick defeated my will. Never again will I attempt to control it. With age I’ve learned that sometimes you should just throw up your hands and say, “Fine, be unruly. It’s your world.”
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You.. have a cowlick? I never knew. I thought only boys could have those. Like… Alfalfa?
I wore my hair long for about 7 years. Just recently I cut it all off, and discovered, much to my dismay, that my dear ole cowlick, still remained. Wonder what other, annoying little things from my childhood are patiently hibernating, just waiting for their moment to torment me once more?
I, like Marcos, wore my hair long, knowing I had a cowlick hiding underneath, awaiting the day it would triumphantly return to hold dominance over my hairstyle. And it does. And I’ve cowtailed to my cowlick. I’ve actually begun to accept it as a part of me, and even kind of like it in some strange flawed way.
I’ve always thought that “cowlick” was such a strange word. Licked by a cow. What a weird concept. I mean, these strange follicular phenomena must have been around for millenia. But suddenly, one day, some damned farmer looks at his kid and says “Damn, boy! You look like you done been licked by a cow!”
And thus the word comes into being.
what’s a cow lick? :|
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