My most recent example came as we were getting ready to leave Tampa after our last, heartbreaking visit, we stopped at an Einstien Bagels for breakfast. I was topping off my coffee, holding The Kid in my left arm when an innocent looking white woman asked if she could say hi to my adorable daughter. Naively, I thought that someone asking was a welcome change to the random people who decide they absolutely must touch her hair.
This particular random decided that The Kid's response to her was so cute (she tried crawling into my ribcage), that, "I just have to touch that hair!"
Mind you, the number of randoms who want to touch The Kid are pretty small and the number who want to touch her hair are even smaller. However, I am very sensitive to her hair, how it is done, what we put in it, and who can touch it. We've made the decision to keep her hair as natural as possible until she is old enough to maintain it. We've fielded several offers to help us with her hair, all of which are appreciated because caring for The Kid's hair is way different than buzz-cutting my own mane.
As far as who touches my daughter's hair, lets keep in mind that my child is not a circus freak or an animal on display. She is a living, breathing, screaming human being. She deserves to decide who can or cannot touch her body, and until she is old enough to make those decisions for herself, her parents should have the final word. It is not up to you, the person who cannot control their own weird impulses.
This is one of those things I didn't anticipate when we adopted The Kid, but I am quickly learning about. Where I was shocked the first few times that people would be so bold, I am learning to accept that sometimes being rude is called for in order to protect my daughter. But I am willing to try a cheeky t-shirt first.