My dad asked the question..."So when you wash those things, they don't come out?
A sister wtih traditional locs from New Jersey that I encountered in the airport in Houston
I pretended not to hear him. We were on a tour bus at our family reunion and the engine was rather loud. He was sitting behind me.
A brother who was on our flight from Atlanta (Nice lats!)But then he leaned forward and, rather loudly, continued, "I said, how do you wash those things?"
A sisterlocked mom and her daughter who just happened to be on the escalator ahead of us at Hartsfield-Jackson airport (Mom has been SL'd 8 years)
I turn around so he could hear me. "With shampoo. Like the way you wash your hair," I said in my most "uh-duh" -like voice.
A mom with traditional locs and her cuties atop Stone Mountain
That was it. I guess, since he last saw me this past spring, someone must have explained to him that I have locs.