Clara woke up on Saturday morning. Something was different. It took her a minute to figure it out, but then she realized. It was her hair!

The day before, Clara’s hair went down to her shoulders. Now it reached her waist. She ran her hands down the long brown strands. “Awesome!” she said. She’d always wanted long hair.

Clara climbed out of bed. She walked across her room. By the time she got to the door, her hair was down to her feet!

Clara’s hair kept growing. It was getting longer before her eyes. It curled around her toes and out the door. It flowed down the hallway.

“Watch out!” she called to her brother, who was walking sleepily out of his room. Too late. He got tangled in her thick brown curls.

Her hair wound down the stairs. Clara followed. She didn’t have much of a choice. After all, it was attached to her head.  

She followed it into the kitchen. It picked up a cereal box and two kitchen chairs. “At least I have somewhere to sit now,” said her brother.

“Watch out!” Clara called to her mother, who was standing at the fridge. Too late again. Her mother got tangled up, along with a gallon of milk. “Pass the cereal, please,” her mother said.

Clara’s hair wound its way to the front door. “Watch out!” she called to her father, who was opening the door for the dog. Too late. Her father was swooped up into the curls. The dog was caught by his tail. The whole mess headed out the door and down the street.

“Watch out!” Clara called to the neighbors. Soon a bike, a garden hose, and Mrs. McGinty were all in Clara’s hair.

“I’ve always wanted long hair,” said Clara. “But it’s going to be awfully hard to brush!”