Every family has a smart aleck, and ours is the youngest. Because the oldest has taken the role of the brain and the middle is the uber X-Game athlete, the youngest has chosen to be the funny one.
Take yesterday. J's hair was looking a bit like he'd been through a battle with the pillow and the thirty six stuffed animals he sleeps with. Actually, it always looks like he's had a rough night. Come to think of it, I did finally give up on the idea of a top sheet because every morning I found it on the floor next to his bed in a little heap. Sometimes I find his comforter on the floor too, while J. lays huddled in a ball like a roly poly in the middle of the mattress. One of these days I'm going to record what he does every night. I imagine it involves a lot of thrashing, flipping, and hair pulling--possibly even dialogue and weapons.
So his hair is always a mess. But as this child usually wakes up growling and sulky, I have chosen to be happy that he will put on clothes and shoes, and if I'm lucky, a clean pair of underwear. As the mother of boys, I figure I don't have to "do" hair in pig tails or cute curls or what have you. Not only is their hair not long enough for such things, quite frankly, my boys don't care. And by default, neither do I.
But the other day, we were out in public and I happened to look down at J's head. The hair on the back of his head was matted and dusty looking, while a few bits at the top sprang up like milkweeds. When I examined the rest of his head, I found swirls and waves of blond and brown tresses colliding in a frizzy fury, and a fringe of electrified cowlicks bordering his forehead. It looked as if he had literally fallen out of bed, crammed on a pair of shoes, and staggered to the car with nary a thought to personal hygiene. But I guess that's where I was supposed to come in. Oops.
Slightly embarrassed, I tousled J's hair and said, "You've got bed head, big time dude."
J. pulled back from my touch. "Watch it," he said. "I worked all night on this."
I could not pull out a brush and tame his hair hurricane because I don't carry that stuff in my purse. So I could only laugh and put my arm around his little shoulders. And I knew enough to not ask my next question. Because a kid with bed head that bad surely forgot all about clean underwear. And a mom like me surely forgot to ask.
You should just be happy they're dressed! :p
I'm sure the day will come when they take forever getting their hair "just so" for a date or something...and then you'll wish they were still little boys with messy hair!
Posted by: MaryB | January 23, 2010 at 08:14 PM
Another hilarious insight into your life and family. Keep it up Susan - I know there is a future book here! You won't even have to sit down to write it, just print and send to a publisher. You just need to think of a clever title. Love you and the boys! This also made me think of when I tended the boys when you have been out of town. I would direct them to the bathroom after they thought they were ready for school. Pull out a spray water bottle, spray them down and proceed to plaster their hair in what I thought was a good style for boy's hair. I would always get the same rolling of their eyes as they watched in the mirror. I am sure they "fixed" it the minute I dropped them off for school. Gotta love boys!
Posted by: Dana | January 21, 2010 at 05:10 PM
That is classic! You have three fabulous boys and should be one proud mama, clean underwear or not!
Posted by: shelby | January 21, 2010 at 12:16 PM
We love Jake! And your other two boys as well, but Jake keeps us laughing. You have described your boys to a T. It's funny how every child is different, isn't it? Each one is unique and has his/her own special traits. We love them all.
Posted by: LauraB. | January 20, 2010 at 11:19 AM