Third Lovely

Smitten, I returned home humming a little tune. My eyes were nearly closed and my mind was up in the clouds. Quickly, I unlocked the door, eager to give my children a little treat. Walking in, I noticed the unusually quiet atmosphere of the hallway. I rounded into the kitchen, practically singing at this point and unpacked the food. I took out the lo mien I'd bought for myself and started dancing to the song in my head.
As ridiculous as I probably looked, my polka dot socks slid across the floor with pride as a noodle dangled out of my mouth. I grabbed a broom and did a little sashay with it around the living room. Excited, I pulled up the song on the television. I'd forgotten the name and had to look up the lyric I remembered, but after a few minutes, I found it. Blasting it, I took hold of my broom partner and waltzed around with it in my arms. Lost in my thoughts, it took me a moment to hear the slow claps coming from the door frame.
Gora stood there, munching on some of my lo mien.
"Meet someone?" he asked, chuckling to himself.
Putting the broom back, I felt my face flush. I coughed, "Where's your sister?"
He groaned, "While you were out flirting, Couro's decided she needs straight hair." 
My heart sank. My poor baby girl already had body issues rooted deep in her. I thought she loved her hair, and now she was going to change it. Glancing up at Gora, I caught sight of his smug, accomplished look.
"Gora, you did this," I accused. The boy looked at me, barely stifling a laugh. "What did you do to Couro?"
"Nothing," he singsonged. "Just tested her self-confidence, is all." My eyes widened and he couldn't handle it, he bent over and started laughing. Through it, he couldn't hear any of my angry murmurings. Once he calmed himself, he looked at me and shrugged, "Guess she failed." Oh, so satisfied, the mischievous child made his way up to his room. I tailed him as Couro's room was right next to his. 
I opened the door to a small, carpeted room. There were stains on it from instances when Couro was younger, and everything was fuzzy, pink, or both. Dozens of stuffed animals filled the room and cutesy dresses littered the floor. I saw everything, posters, book, her cradle--except Couro. 
Swallowing, I could feel my breathing quicken into short gasps. My heart raced thinking about all the possibilities. What if she ruined her hair? What if she got relaxer or an iron and burned herself? Or a razor or scissors and cuts herself?
Frantically, I burst into Couro and Gora's bathroom--nothing. Then all the guest bathrooms--nothing. Lastly, mine. To my relief, there she sat, attempting to comb her hair.   
Staring at the unused pair of scissors that were stationed beside some pink oil, I wheezed, "Couro, what are you doing?"
"Trying to fix my hair," she replied, her eyes unwavering from her reflection. "If the dolls can't look like me, then I'll just look like them."
I sighed, "Couro..."