Are you curious what this bug is in my hand? Read on my friends, and all will be revealed.
Tiny has a mad aversion to having her hair brushed, as many small fry are wont to do. She goes berko. Plus she won't let me put her hair in a pony tail, pig tails, or even any clips. So at least once a week I wrestle with her to remove the dreadies that fester in the back of her hair.
Yesterday's was particularly bad. Huge. I had to tell her she had a bird's nest in her hair and had to let me get it out straight away or they would lay eggs in there. Naughty mummy, I know, but I had to get that thing out of there before Tiny signed up with the John Butler Trio and they switched their name to the John Butler Quartet. It was that big.
So I sat her up on my lap, sprayed some magic detangling stuff in her hair, and brushed, and brushed, and brushed, and chatted about the birds in her hair, and we brushed, and I was marvelling at how big and resilient that dreadlock was. I kept working away on it. And then it came out in my hand. Just like that.
I've not shown Tiny this chunk of hair. That little bird's nest that had manifested itself in her hair. It might reignite her passion for her own haircuts. And I couldn't have that all over again.