Washing the children’s hair has always been Nate’s job. I’m not sure how it worked out that way – I just got lucky, I guess. So Nate piles into the big shower with all the kids, and they spend about twenty minutes washing hair and squirting each other with spray bottles and just generally having fun.
Until recently, when Aaron decided that having his hair washed is just one step above having his toe-nails ripped off one by one. I have no idea what happened, but suddenly hair washing is off the table for him. No way, no how. Much screaming. Much sobbing. Shower time went from fun house to horror show for everyone involved. Except for me, who relishes shower time as 20 minutes where I can sit uninterrupted in front of the TV or the computer and just be.
So after three or hour horrible showers, we decided that Aaron would just have to wash his hair in the bath for awhile until he gets over this period. That means me. Great. So last night, amid much crying and screaming, I plopped Aaron into the bathtub. I got him to lean back onto my arm, put a wrung-out washcloth over his eyes, and started dumping cups of water over his hair as he was lying back. All of a sudden, he stopped crying and struggling, sighed, and a huge grin broke out on his face.
“Aaaaaahhhhhhh. This is so relaaaaaxing. This feels sooooo gooooood.”
Well, there go the showers. Looks like I’m on bath duty for the duration.