Big hairbows? Oh nos!


As a child, it seemed like I would never part ways with my big hairbows. I had one for every outfit nearly and wore them every day. But, I will never forget the day that I vowed to never again wear a bow.
My family and I went camping a lot when my sister and I were young. We frequented this place called Lake Texana and usually we would invite another family to join us for the weekend. We would bring games and s’mores, fishing poles and bikes and play all day long. There were hiking/biking trails all through the woods and though the place was not big it was easy for a 7 year old to lose her way… which only ever happened once.
My older sister and I decided one afternoon to go for a bike ride with the other family’s boys on a trail that we walked all of the time. The tree branches hung low, and there were many shrubs and fallen trees. I really did not think much of my surroundings until my bow got tangled in a branch and I could not wiggle free. My sister and the boys just kept riding, leaving me there in a panic… At that age, there was no staying calm, I started crying and screaming for help- well I say screaming, but it was more like hushed pleas for assistance. I was embarrassed as well as a very independent child and wanted no one to find me crying with my bow caught in a tree.
I wound up yanking some of the ribbons loose in an effort to free myself and finally, after ruining the bow, I was free. I do not think that I have ever pedalled a bike faster in my life in an effort to beat the rest of the gang back to the campsite… which happened to be at the edge of the clearing at the end of the trail. The three of them were laughing hysterically at me; well, my sister was until she realized that it was her bow destroyed in my hands!

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