Once each day I am the funniest, most captivating person on the planet to my Monkey. No episode of Curious George or even televised football game can compete. He will walk away from his snack. He will run, feet pounding across the floor, no matter what he was doing, just to cheer me on as I…dry my hair. I wish I knew what was so exciting about it but, even in my ignorance, I can’t help but enjoy it.
As soon as I unwrap the towel from my head, Monkey is guiding me towards the bathroom telling me, “Hair!” He will open the drawer where the hair dryer is kept and he’ll attempt to unwind the cord and plug it in (no matter how many times I tell him that is a Mama job.) He will get my hair brush and stand, feet apart, with the hair dryer in one hand and the brush in the other telling me “Over!” I flip my hair over, so I can dry my roots, and he will push the hair dryer and brush into my hands. I’m not allowed to vary my routine. If I try to set the brush down he will grab it and demonstrate how I am supposed to brush my hair and then hand it back to me. He’s quite the little drill sargent.
The best part comes when I stand up. Monkey will position me so I’m facing the mirror and he then stands back to jump, giggle, scream and clap as I blow out my hair. If I turn away from the mirror, he will stop cheering long enough to turn me back. If I try to set down the brush and just use my hands to fluff my hair, he will again intervene.
When I’m finally done he will demonstrate how I’m supposed to wind up the cord and he’ll put the hair dryer away for me. I never knew drying my hair could be so much fun but Monkey has certainly opened my eyes. ((This morning as an added bonus he was very verbal. He said “funny,” “bend over,” “hair dryer,” “brush,” and “mirror” repeatedly. All very clear. Hubby, child that he is, was most amused by the “bend over.” Men.))