Unbe-weave-able

Over the past several days I have been tracking the movements of a stray hair extension one street over from my house. First, it simply sat there at the four way stop, like a lost lamb, then the rain came and the weave became a matted mess, hardly recognizable from its original state. As the days have passed the matted mane has moved a few feet to the left, inching ever closer to my house. I was tempted to take a picture the first time I saw it and email it to friends in case they were in the midst of a panic, looking for said lost weave, but I was afraid I would hold up traffic. And now the rain soaked lock really isn’t much to look at. My thought here is this...why in the hell am I raising my child in a neighborhood where a weave in the street isn't so truly, well, unbeweaveable? But alas, I love my 'hood and hope that the diversity that surrounds us will instill a sense of acceptance in my tine-tine baybay. And if that doesn't take at least he will have cat-like reflexes from dodging bullets and a never ending selection of hair accessories.