One night, I learned exactly what the Bean was afraid of. I heard him whimpering through the monitor, so I quickly tiptoed my way through the dark house to his room.
"What's wrong?"
"I'm sad," he said.
"Why are you sad?"
"You're washing my hair."
"I think you were having a dream, Buddy Boy," I said as reassuringly as I could. "You're in your bed. Put your hand on your hair, it's not wet."
The Bean did just that. Though he still seemed upset and a little bit confused, confirmation of his dry head was enough to make him lay back on his pillow.
"Do you want me to stay in here for a minute?" I asked him.
"No," he said. "I want you to leave now."
3 comments:
Funny post. Congrats on the hitting the century mark!
Congrats on reaching 100!
My son is seven and still hates having his hair washed. I keep hoping one day he'll outgrow it, but I'm starting to worry.
As a kid I never had an issue with getting my hair washed, but if you tried to DRY my hair, I would throw my towel on the floor and escape the house . . . naked.
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