My Prince Charming With Soft And Bouncy Hair

W. has always liked his hair longer than I would normally like. I like that clean cut look, but after numerous arguments with him, I agreed to let him grow it out some. Some.

Soon after our conversation, I began to notice the boys getting off the bus in the mornings at his school. Most of them had the same hair style, the longer, I just got out of bed look. Okay, at least he's not being the rebel. He's just trying to fit in. And come to think of it, it is actually easier to take care of now. He's got horrible cowlicks all over and the shorter it is the worse it looks and the harder it is to plaster down.

I just worry about the summer. I know he's going to whine when it's 90 degrees. He's got gorgeous hair, but it's very thick and coarse. He's going to swelter. But he swore to me he didn't care and that he was NOT, I repeat, NOT going to cut it short. I told him if he so much as complained once, he'd have to have it cut like his father has it. That should keep him quiet as Mr. Schmitty has a flat top with it basically shaved on the sides.

Anyway, last night W. was in the shower. I notice a lot of my material for this blog seems to revolve around the shower and the bathroom in general, as evident here, here, oh and definitely here.

Now, as I mentioned a few sentences ago, W.'s hair is very thick and coarse. I told him he should use conditioner in his hair to make it soft. So, last night he is showering and singing his little heart out like Sanjaya. I was in the next room and he asked me how long to keep the conditioner in. "Just a few minutes is good."

After his shower, Mr. Schmitty used the hairdryer to help him dry it. I heard him explaining that I had told him that the conditioner would make his hair soft. I can only imagine the face my dear husband was making during the conversation. Things like that coming from his boys makes him crazy. He'll just look at me and say, "Stop it."

What?!

This morning W. couldn't stop talking about his beautiful locks. I must say it was beginning to wear on my nerves.

I saw my opening to once again mess with my kid. I ran over to him and started running my fingers through his hair.

"Oh W., it's so soft! I could run my fingers through it all day!" I told him the girls would be saying at school.

I starting talking in a sweet, high-pitched voice, "No, let me, it's mmmmyyyy turn!"

"MOM STOP IT!"

"C'mon W. give me a little flip, just one, c'mon just like Prince Charming in Shrek!"



I think he wanted to give me a flip of another kind as he stomped out the door.