The year is 2000. I am six years old. It is a normal Sunday morning in the Knot household. The smell of coffee cake sits in the air.

It is early. Throughout the house, my siblings use their comforters as shields in a futile attempt to resist our human alarm clocks or parents.

Church starts in one hour, and the biggest problem of the morning has yet to be faced: my hair.

My unusual amount of hair and unusual amount of tangles made brushing my hair a nightmare for my mother and me.

I feared the brush almost as much as other kids feared the monster under the bed. When Sunday morning rolled around, I knew my fate. No amount of conditioner applied the night before or bottles of detangling spray could straighten the rat’s nest on my head. Unraveling one knot lead to ten more with seemingly no end in sight.

I tried every means to avoid this. I kicked, I screamed, I hid, I cried. My mother exhausted every option she could think of to soothe my fears. She tired bribery, trickery, and punishment. None proved successful. Even my father’s promise of penalty, which normally was enough to send shivers down my spine, had no bearing. I had to decide between the lesser of two pains. I would take my chances with my father before I would let the brush run through my hair.

Growing up in my family lent itself to two guarantees, thick hair and church on Sunday. Bless my mother for managing the two every week.

Though now I and my sensitive scalp have matured, my particularity towards my hair has not. I am still prone to tangles and over the years, I have invested in product after product to change this. My roommate recently recommended to me the Wet Brush, a hairbrush meant to be used on wet hair and prevent breakage.

Given my aversion toward hairbrushes, I resisted at first. But after borrowing hers a few times, I never wanted to return to my other brushes. The Wet Brush pulls without yanking and detangles without hurting.

I have recommended it to all of my sisters asking “Wouldn’t it be nice to look down at your hairbrush after you showered and not see your entire head of hair in the bristles?” Trust me it is.

Once you start using it, I can promise that you won’t use anything else.

Had my mother known about this product years ago, it would’ve saved her from a lot of tantrums and a lot of headaches.

Get the Wetbrush and stop crying over wet hair.
Thewetbrush.com