Girl's hair. Our girl's long hair. To be exact.
Okay, let me explain.
My husband is a phenomenal corporate business person. He is very good at his job. He can talk numbers, stats, stock market matters and all that other lingo, I know nothing about, with the best of them. But….get this man, this tough business man, in front of his daughter's hair and he's like a deer in the headlights.
Case in point.
With four children, inevitably you will have scheduling problems that will cause you as parents, to which we affectionally call, "divide and conquer". This weekend is a perfect example of that. Our youngest daughter has a soccer tournament in Kansas City while all the rest of the crew at home has other engagements that need to be attended. I gave my husband the choice. Go to Kansas City with one, or stay home with three.
Hmmm, he thought for a moment. "Go".
"Okay, but you have to do her hair for a few days".
Nothing….
You would have thought I just told him that his favorite basketball team just got suspended. His blank panicked look said it all.
Kryptonite. Simple as that.
And just because I saw this man of steel finally bending under the weight of which I just placed on him, I said…."don't forget, you start at the top of the head with the brush and go all the way to the bottom".
"What?"
You would have thought I said it in a foreign language. This was bordering on way too much fun. Smiling I said, "or you could stay here and do the other girl's hair". You choose….
Kryptonite. Simple as that.
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