Not for the weak-stomached

Last night Aria earned coming to Aida rehearsal with me by napping during the day. While we were there, I took her for a potty break. She was in her stall and I was waiting by the sink when she said, "Mama, I found a hair that wraps around my finger!" Me, cautious..."Is it...yours?"
"No, it's brown!"
"Aria, open the door."
The curly hair was a questionable length.
It goes without saying that we scrubbed...lots.
What a strange existence I lead.