Tuesday, October 17, 2006

Greetings From Whoville

Hi, my name is Chelsa, and I'm a Max-hair-petting-aholic. I am trying to get a handle on it, but it is an uphill battle, with plenty of steps backwards. Now that Max has more hair, and now that his hair is fluffier and wispier, my addiction has become even more difficult to surmount.

Luckily, Max does not seem troubled by his mother's compulsions. Hair horns merrily waggling in the breeze, he continues his bathtime boat captain duties with admirable focus and dedication. He can now put the correct shapes in the correct holes three times out of every five. (The boat has those geometric matching shapes and holes.) It must be that giant brain.

While Max is devil-may-care about the shapes his hair may take while he plays, he is not really a fan of getting the hair rinsed when the time comes. I try to ease him into the whole water on the head thing, but his suspicious nature gets in my way. I am trying to make him think that we are just playing with the water, pouring it near but not on the head, but you can see by his face that he is not buying it. The giant brain has disadvantages, too. Increasingly so.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

My mom would sneak up on me with the shampooing and rinsing.

You can put "no tears" on the bottle even though it's a flat-out lie apperantly.

Chelsa said...

I don't think it's the shampoo that bothers Max. I think it's the interruption to his play time that offends him.