Here is a brief, accurate list of the things my three-year-old daughter says EVERY SINGLE DAMN DAY as I attempt to detangle, brush, and style her hair:
"Use the tiny baby brush. Only the tiny baby brush."
"I don't like thaaaat brush."
"Gentle. Geeeentle, Mama."
"That is NOT GENTLE!"
"Soft and slow. Soft and slow. Slower!"
"Oww. Ouch! ARDK*%MVK*ZX**@@KDVE#AEOZ!!!!"
"Brush Jimmy, Mama. BRUSH JIMMY."
"This is not a good idea!"
"I don't even WANT my hairs! I notta like hairs!"
Lather, rinse, repeat.
With this level of drama, shouting, mother/daughter tension and hair-styling activities, you'd think Ellie and I were staging our own two-woman summer stock show of "Steel Magnolias."
Except, we're not doing the Southern accents very well. And my co-star keeps forgetting to actually be funny. And we really need a Truvy, but I'm thinking Jimmy would look convincing in a wig, bra and falsies. Just don't tell his father.