Last night June woke up from a nightmare. She had already crept into our bed a few hours previous, and she woke us up with her calling out. And her crying, "Daddy messed up my hair! It's not pretty!"
Someday, we will tease her mercilessly about her nightmares being about her hair not looking pretty. And that she was so mad in her dream at her Dad about it that she hit him several times upon waking.
We can't really blame her though. Everywhere she goes people comment on her blondie-locks. And at school they've only contributed to the vanity with combing and brushing and putting ponytails in her hair every day.
She even has a fascination with conditioner.
She loves to stand on a chair in front of the mirror after her bath and comb her hair. [And brush her teeth. And play with the water. It captivates her for a very long time.] Adam took a great picture of her doing just this thing - combing her hair after her bath - but I can't bring myself to post it here because her bare bum shows. I love it.
She's our girl.