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Hair. Why brushing my daughter’s hair is a nightmare!

Hair. Why I dread this morning necessity!

Even now, two years later, brushing her hair is a nightmare, hence the tangles in this gorgeous shot. Holidays are no time for battles!

So, my first blog post, I have been agonising about this for ages, what should I write about, do I need to set the tone for my whole blog from the outset, what is the tone for my whole blog?!

Then this morning it came to me, I would write my first blog post about…..A Hello Kitty Comb!

A tiny, plastic comb that came free with some hideous pink filled magazine that has a prong snapped off. Why is this even post-worthy? Well because this is all I had to make my 4 year old daughter’s very thick hair go from ‘birdnest with extra scarecrow’ to ‘smooth, sleek and tamed into Elsa hair’. A difficult task at the best of times but did I mention that we were also late, this is rare, very unusual an everyday occurrence, and there had been an awful lot of sibling fighting since their eyes opened, this is also rare, very unusual, an everyday occurrence and I was stressed and there I was trying to ease the knots a boy scout would be proud of, out of the hair of a squealing, wriggling, wilful daughter who may or may not be an animagus, she was certainly channeling the evasive maneuvers that an eel would be proud of.

After a good ten minutes, I was at the point of giving up.

“This is too hard, a brush will make it so much quicker and easier and much less painful.”, I try and reason with her.

“NO”, is her well thought out and reasonable contribution to the debate.

A split second later I realise my mistake, I have no idea where any of the 6 brushes I’ve bought over the 4 hideous years of this battle reigning on are. Not a one. I try and act nonchalant and carry on with the stupid tiny comb but she stiffens slightly and I know that she knows. It’s as if she can read my mind. She spins round, locks eyes with me, and says;

“Ok, no more comb, I only want it done with the brush. The pink one with the missing bristle and the tag still on. The one we haven’t seen since last February”, (ok so I may have made that last bit up, I’m sure that’s what she finished with in her mind though!), I try reasoning with her a bit more, I then fly unsuccessfully through bribery, land swiftly on threats, and, with a glance at the clock, land firmly on give up!

So we leave the house, yet again, with one side of her hair looking like she’d just stepped out of the salon and the other looking, well, a bit like mine really!

If you enjoyed this post, you might also like Dear neighbours another hair related disaster post! 😀


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