One family, one color of hair. Brown: a dull color that can shapeshift into different shades. My mother has a shade of brown like little specks of sun dried sand. She makes monthly visits to conceal the wiry white hairs revealing her true age. Her hair is happy to breathe after all the hairspray that once covered it in the 80’s. I myself have a shade of brown darker than my mother’s with a strawberry tint. It flows down my shoulders like a waterfall, flowing into a luxurious lake below. Some days my hair is angry with me and doesn’t want to stay straight.

On the other hand, my brother has a shade of brown as dark as dirt with  corkscrewing curls dancing across his head. Luckily for him, a sweep of bare bristles from a brush can tame his hair once it goes crazy. Like little soldiers moving back into place. My father, the king of the house, once part took in our family of breathtaking brown hair. After many stressful years of hard work, the top of his hair started to look like little snowflakes falling on a Wisconsin winter day. Brown: a dull color that transforms into white no matter what.