What IS it with girls who feel that they have license to have the screechy-screechies every time I ask them to brush their hair, or approach them with a hairbrush to do it myself?
I must have given them the license somehow, but I can't remember doing it. They've only gotten marginally better about this since they were 4 or so. When they do get the moaning under control, their faces still look as though I was pulling out their fingernails rather than just brushing their hair -- with detangler in it!
It drives me nuts, frankly. If I'm not around and David needs to get them looking like they don't have rats' nests on their heads, he just usually foregoes the brush entirely and gathers their hair into a ponytail.
Sheesh. It makes me want to cut it all off.
But I can't, they're beautiful!
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2 comments:
I shrieked my fool head off every time my mom approached me with a hairbrush! But I promise, I did not provide your girls with the license number!
My husband thinks it must come from MY Eastern-European-peasant genes, as no one in his Scotch-Presbyterian ancestry would think of doing such a thing. :-) Heck, his father would rasp, "I'm fine, no problem," as he suffered from lung cancer, dying without telling anyone he'd been diagnosed.
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