I would like to lodge a complaint with the stork, or God, or the pregnancy fairies or whoever is out there that is responsible for my baby. I have a real problem here. My baby girl won’t let me do her hair or wear hats. In fact, at two-years-old, she won’t let me do anything fun to her, except for kisses, which are awesome…
Anyway, I spent my whole life waiting for the right time to become pregnant, nine (actually 10!) months cooking her up, and of course now I dedicate my waking life to ensuring she is taken care of, doesn’t get arrested and goes to college. The least she could do is let me fix up her hair so she can look like a little pixie. I am even willing to compromise and let her wear a hat–fair enough if she doesn’t want me to tug her locks into a teenie hair tie.
I was lied to–from a young age, from those Barbie days where I could dress her up and do her hair how I liked. I was told by all of society that I would get to do the same with my little girl once I had one.
Damn lies. Not even 30 seconds go by before she pulls out or off my fine contribution to her darling appearance. I thought that wasn’t supposed to happen until the teen years?