A Little Powder, Please

So, this morning Diego and I were in the middle of our morning routine. He had gotten out of bed on his own without having to be prodded and threatened. We had a brief conversation about what he needed to do to be ready to leave for Day Camp and off he went to do those things while I finished getting myself ready to go to work. (Incidentally, this is all very unusual behavior.)

We've been having talks about personal hygiene lately and must be today was the day Diego determined to take the smelly hair situation into his own hands. Usually he wets his head and only pretends to wash his face. Not today, he emerged from the bathroom with his hair dripping. On closer look the substance dripping from his locks was a cloudy-white liquid.

Diego said, "Smell my hair, Mommy." As I bent to sniff, I noticed the tell-tale signs of a white powdery substance (no, not Anthrax) on the collar of his shirt. I immediately looked to the counter where there is a basket which contains his toothpaste, toothbrush and, you guessed it, a container of baby powder. Diego asked me if he smelled good and I told him he did. Of course the closer I inspected his head, the more powder I found.

I remember making "glue" from a 5 pound bag of flour when I was about Diego's age; the globs of goo in his hair resembled that gluey concoction.

I didn't have the heart or the time to wash his hair. All I could do was comb it and try to brush some of the powder away with my hand... again, and again, and again. By the time we arrived at Day Camp about 25 minutes later, most of his hair was dry, and very white.

I didn't get a pic but believe me, this was one true FAS moment brought to you by my loving little boy.