When I am not spending my weekends racing I frequently engage in another endurance event: combing my son’s hair.
(And yes, I am admitting that he doesn’t get his hair combed every day)
(He also doesn’t get a bath every day. Please don’t call the authorities)
I should start out by saying I love my son’s hair. Love it. We gave him a super short buzz cut once and I was devastated. He looked like a little man instead of my little baby. My husband would be fine with keeping his hair super cropped but I prefer the curls so the deal is that we just have to be able to get a comb through it without hurting the kiddo during the combing process.
So the first step is always squirting a healthy amount of de-tangler on his hair. The second step is turning on Thomas the Tank Engine for distraction. Then we gather the tools:
I use a combination picking and brushing. His hair has a variety of textures. There are looser curls on the top and tighter curls that are more apt to get matted on the back so the brush works better in some areas and the pick works better in others. The brush belonged to his grandfather, a man he’ll never get to meet (he passed away before I met my husband) which always makes me feel a little wistful.
There are always multiple picks involved as he tends to want to try to do it himself.
Sometimes it works better than others
There are two goals to the hair combing process: de-tangle the hair and trying to get it to look somewhat symmetrical.
This, about halfway through the process, is not quite what we are going for:
This is the final product: soft, untangled, nice and fluffy.
This of course lasts about 10 minutes because he is a little boy and I am regularly combing sand and bits of paper and the occasional booger out of his hair.
I suspect that as he gets older and becomes in charge of taking care of his hair himself he might opt for a shorter haircut but until then I will happily keep my fuzzy headed little boy.