One of the women where I work has exceptionally long hair. It extends down to her knees, at least. Her shift was just beginning today, and I was on my way out out of the backroom at the end of my workday when I saw her rolling her hair up into a bun. This gave me an idea for a story.

The Long-Haired Mother

The long-haired mother was reading in her upstairs bedroom, and her children were playing in another room on the second floor. The kids came running into Mother's bedroom.

"Mom! The stairway is on fire! We're trapped!"

Mother put down her book. "So it was smoke I smelled. I thought the dog had farted."

The dog was lying down on the bed, and looked over with a hurt expression.

"Okay, kids. Don't panic. Everything is going to be all right. Mother will save you. Anna, close the door. Tommy, open the window."

While her kids obeyed, Mother undid her long hair from the bun on her head. Her hair was twelve feet long. Mother kicked the screen out of the open window.

"Okay, Anna. You first."

Mother tossed the end of her long hair out the window. She wrapped her hair around her hand so that the weight of her children wouldn't pull on her scalp. She braced one foot on the window sill.

"Hurry."

"I'm hurrying, Mother."

Anna grabbed onto Mother's hair, climbed out the window, and slid down. It helped that they did fire drills once a month in case this very thing should happen.

"All right, Tommy, your turn. Hang on tight, and don't let go until you're close to the ground."

"Yes, Mother."

When Tommy was safely on the ground, Mother pulled her hair back into the room. She held the long tresses in one arm while she pushed the bed to the window.

The dog knew what was coming next as Mother tied the end of her hair around him like a harness. He didn't like getting lowered out of the window every time they did a fire drill, but he usually got a treat afterward, so it wasn't all bad.

Mother wrapped part of her hair around the bedpost, and lowered the dog to the ground.

"Anna, untie the dog!"

"Got it!"

Mother could see smoke coming from under the bedroom door, and heard the crackling of the fire as it turned the wood of her home into gases, heat and ashes.

Mother left her hair wrapped once around the bedpost. She carefully climbed into a sitting position on the window sill. In her left hand she gripped the hair about a foot from her head, and in her right hand she held the hair a couple of feet from the bedpost. With practiced ease, she lowered herself to the ground a couple of inches at a time by raising her right hand to let her weight pull a little more hair around the bedpost, then sliding her right hand farther down her hair and again tightening her grip. When she was about six feet from the ground, she opened her right hand and dropped to the ground. The remainder of her hair slid around the bedpost and dropped to the ground. The kids tried to catch the long strands so that Mother wouldn't get grass in her hair.

Mother rewound her hair into a bun, and pinned it with a bobby pin.

"Do we get to have ice cream now?" asked Tommy.

"Maybe later," Mother replied. "First I have to call the fire department, and then I'll call the salon for an emergency appointment. I'm getting some split ends, and I need a new bottle of conditioner."