A Conversation

As a poop reward some time ago, Blythe got a bag of hair care products--a curling iron, a blow dryer, a little bottle of hair spray, a hair straightener.  I don't need to say all fake, do I?  Today she was in the mood to
"do" hair.  Grandma Sue came over and was made to sit on the ground and be coiffed.  Later I was made to sit on the stairs so Blythe could fix my hair.

As I was sitting, Blythe brushed and curled, sprayed and teased, and talked to me too.  She can certainly multi-task.  She said, "Mom, you need to get some princess shoes, a ring, a necklace, and some earrings so you will look like a fashion girl."

comb comb


"Put you head back now, Mom.  I need to reach your hair."

more combing as I tilted my head back


Then the best part.  "Mom, don't move your legs or your arms.  I don't want to hurt you with my instrument.  It could shock you."

What?!  My instrument?  Where does she get this stuff?

As a side note, my hair looks pretty good tonight.