The local CBC was interviewing a brain surgeon who uses robotic lasers to operate on peoples’ brain tumours. According to him, it’s not as intimidating as it sounds, which is easy to say if you’re a person who operates on brain tumours. For me, the line in the sand for intimidating would be crossed in about the first year of medical school.
This evening I washed the heads of my children. Both children are growing their hair, to what end I do not know, so far it looks like 70s hockey player but things can change on a dime around here. Rather than torture them by forcing an entire body wash, I suggested I wash their hair using the time-honoured head-over-the-bathtub-handheld-showerhead-trick. It was imperative that their hair be washed; it’s been quite a few days now. You know how hair gets.
They squealed and shivered and complained but the hair got clean and then they combed it. They are big into combing right now. I hope that phase lasts. I came downstairs to put something away and when I went upstairs again, Arlo was combing Eli’s hair for him, a sweet moment as rare as a blue duck on a purple pond, so of course I snuck back down and grabbed a camera to snap a few sly pictures through the railing. Eventually they spotted me and were all annoyed I had filmed them secretly, which is totally fair. (In my defense, it is impossible to get candid shots of them anymore.) But Eli was really upset.
“I bet you filmed me when I looked HIDEOUS,” he wailed. “And then you’re going to show all your friends.”
So there are no photos with this post because doesn’t that seem a pretty clear request to not share images of His Hideousness on the Internet? Indeed. But trust me, it was a far cry from hideous.