The Morning Battle

Every morning I face a battle.

It doesn’t need to happen.

In fact, there is a very clear winner of the battle.

And yet, there isn’t.

This battle is a constant one from September-June.

I want to let the winner win.

But that would lead to defeat inevitably.

So I take my hair tie

And I attack the mop on my head.

Because hair left down in kindergarten will almost definitely end up with lice.

 

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