The Boy asked me last night if he could do my hair. I said sure, what's the harm in that. Luckily, the comb only got stuck once. The Husband had to help get it out of my curly, tangled mane. A few sentences that escaped The Boy's lips whilst he was styling...
I don't have enough barettes.
It is like I am brushing your brain.
Your hair is so shimmery.
I don't have enough barettes.
It is like I am brushing your brain.
Your hair is so shimmery.
1 comment:
That is SWEET! I let Evie comb my hair, but I never get cute comments like that.
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